Biting the Hand That Feeds You
by Andrew Joshua Talon
Summary: AU Start to Sixth Year. What do you do to stop a genocidal dark wizard? Try appeasement. If it sinks your entire economy, well... That just makes things more interesting.
1. Chapter 1

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

_Summer before Sixth Year..._

* * *

"Boy!" Vernon Dursley bellowed. Harry Potter looked up from the book he was reading on the couch.

"Yes Uncle Vernon?" He asked flatly.

"I am hosting a few Yankee businessmen and I'll not have you here embarassing this important meeting!" Vernon growled. "So..." He looked as though he was swallowing something unpleasant, before he pulled out his wallet. He handed over a single 20 pound bill. "Go. Have... F-Fun," he hissed.

"What? With twenty pounds?" Harry asked flatly. "You must be joking. That'll keep me out of trouble for, what... Thirty minutes?"

"Why you ungrateful little-!" Vernon began, but Harry held up a hand. He lowered three of his fingers.

"Option one: You give me enough money to stay away and enjoy myself. Option two: I hang around and talk about my school, or parents, or friends, or broom-"

Vernon shoved another twenty bill into his hand. Harry cocked an eyebrow.

"Or I could just start with elves, and dragons, and-"

"Fine, fine, FINE!" Vernon bellowed, yanking out his entire wallet's contents and handing them over to his nephew. "GO!"

"Thanks Uncle," said Harry with a cheerful grin, getting up and walking out the door without another word. Frankly, the moment he'd realized his guardians were just a bunch of witless cowards they became a lot easier to deal with.

He walked out and caught a bus to the nearest shopping center. Dismounting it, he looked out at the crowds of muggles enjoying the summer air. He found his eyes going to a few schoolgirls his age, who were talking in a little group nearby. A few looked up at him, and giggled while whispering to one another. It brought a little smile to his face. They were eying him like they would any other decent looking bloke and that helped him forget his troubles, just for a bit.

He walked out and just watched the people milling about, old people, young people...

"Hm?" Harry paused as he saw a girl with a black pageboy cut and familiar green and black stockings walk past, wearing a coat that was a bit too big for her. He frowned. It couldn't be...

The girl walked up to the window of a Wimpy's restaurant. She wrung her hands, and sighed. Harry walked next to her, and stared at her face. She blinked, and looked over at him. Her eyes widened.

"Potter?!" She gasped.

"Parkinson?" He replied back, in equal incredulity.

The two stared at each other for a long moment. Pansy's hands twitched, as though she wanted to go for her wand. Harry remained silent, still, and watching. The Slytherin girl snorted, and looked aside.

"Figures you'd be in a trash heap like this," she spat, though without her usual venom. In it's place was fatigue, and resignation. Harry's frown changed tone.

"You all right? You look..."

"Awful? Isn't that kind of default with Slytherins, Potter?" Pansy spat back. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"What are you even doing here?" He asked. Pansy looked back into the restaurant, her eyes on plates of food. She grimaced.

"None of your business!" She spat back, turning to storm off. Harry reached out and seized her shoulders, pulling her back. She struggled a bit, turning to glare up into his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, as he'd seen her eyes go down at his crotch. She blushed bright red, and continued to struggle. "Let me go, let me-!"

"Pansy!" Harry barked. "We're not in school right now!"

Pansy ceased her struggles, looking up at him in curiosity. Harry sighed.

"All I see is someone who looks like they could use some help," he said. "That's all... So..." He gestured to the restaurant. "You want to have some lunch, or not?"

Pansy worried her lower lip. She looked at the window, and back to Harry. Her shoulders drooped, and she looked utterly exhausted.

"... Sure," she said softly. Harry nodded, and let her go. His hand lingered near hers though... And she took it in her own. Harry stared at her, and she blushed softly. An expression he shared. After all, she may have been a Slytherin but she was still a GIRL.

"Ah... Right," he said. He squeezed her hand, feeling awkward. Then, he led her to the door of the diner. They sat down at a booth, and a server soon arrived. She smiled brightly at them both, her teeth flashing with the same intensity as the buttons on her vest. Pansy stared at her in curiosity.

"Welcome to Wimpy's, can I take your order?" She asked cheerfully.

"Just two specials, with unlimited drink refills," Harry said quickly. He looked at Pansy for a moment longer, before smiling a bit. "And I'll try these double sundaes of yours."

"Right!" The waitress said cheerfully, scribbling this down. "I'll have it up for you in a moment! Thank you!" She flounced off, Pansy staring after her. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"What?" He asked.

"She's so..." Pansy made a face. "_Cheerful_."

"Part of the service," Harry said. "We could have gotten someone who doesn't give a damn, but it doesn't make for as good a dining experience."

Pansy ran her hands over the smooth linoleum table, studying the material. She looked at the condiment bottles at the ends, and even lifted up one of the complimentary coasters. Harry bit back a snort. He didn't complete succeed though as she looked up with a glare.

"What?" She asked flatly. Harry gestured to her coat.

"You could take that off, it must be really warm," he said. Pansy flushed, and unbuttoned the jacket. She pulled it off her shoulders, and let it slide to the bench. Harry stared, his cheeks turning red again. Pansy flushed back and scowled.

"What? I... This is what I could get," she insisted, holding her hands up over her chest. A chest barely covered in a tight, white tanktop with the words "LOVE PUMP" emblazoned across it, and a thin black bra peeking out from under the overly large collar. Combined with the boots, striped stockings and short skirt, it was a rather... Stimulating view. Something he'd never associated with Pansy, really.

"It ah, suits you, really," Harry said. Pansy scowled and gripped the edge of the table.

"Is that supposed to be a joke at my expense?" She asked angrily. "I don't know how fashion works among you oafish Muggleborns but perhaps the great and compassionate Harry Potter could show some respect?!"

Harry felt eyes on them. Curious eyes. His natural aversion to attention kicked in, and he slouched a bit. It didn't help his view though-Pansy leaning forward let him see right down her shirt to the valley of her pert breasts. He stared intently and Pansy noticed, judging from the furious expression on her face.

"And I'd appreciate it if you didn't-Didn't-!"

"Can I help you two?" The perky server from before asked. She smiled brightly. "Rough night for you two?" There was an insinuation in her tone that Harry caught onto... And sudden inspiration stuck. He reached out and grabbed Pansy's hands, pulling her face close to his. He nuzzled her affectionately, and she froze.

"Ah, a bit," Harry said quickly. He smiled at Pansy. "Look sweetie, I'm not acting like this because I don't like what you wear-I actually think it makes you look brilliant."

Pansy stared at him, her cheeks coloring. "Ah..."

"And we should probably keep things quiet... So we don't attract attention, right?" He went on, gesturing with his eyebrows to the rest of the diner. Pansy flushed... And in an instant, her body language changed. She leaned forward and kissed his lips lightly, with a honey sweet look in her eyes.

"Of course darling... After all, this is our night out," she purred softly. "I'm sorry... Let me make it up to you. Later~."

The tone in her voice made Harry's entire face flash bright red, and the server let out a giggle.

"Ah, yes, well, good," the server said quickly. "Lovely... I'll be right back!" She hurried off, and Pansy slowly sat back in her seat. Harry did the same, still bright red. Pansy smirked softly, arching an eyebrow. The fact she'd gotten a reaction out of him like that... It pleased her? Harry couldn't figure it out, save that she probably just enjoyed getting one up on him. Still thinking like a Slytherin, of course.

Their food soon came, and Harry tore into his burger. Pansy eyed her food with some disdain, sniffing it. She took a dubious bite... And then began devouring it eagerly, as though she hadn't had anything to eat in a while. Harry watched, a bit astonished, but he saved his questions after she was done with her meal.

"So," Harry began again, "about... Why you're out here?"

Pansy wiped her face with a napkin, and sighed softly. She looked at Harry, and she sneered very slightly.

"If you must know," she began, "I ran away from home."

Harry blinked. "You? Why?"

"Why? Why do you think?" Pansy snorted. Harry shrugged.

"I honestly haven't the foggiest," he admitted. Pansy blinked, incredulous.

"I'm sorry, what. You don't have the foggiest?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm stuck out in Surrey for the summer without any contact from the wizarding world," Harry said dryly. "Information's a little hard to come by."

Pansy shook her head, disbelief written all over her face. "I... I figured you'd be constantly up to date, in some kind of... Hero lair or something," she said, waving her hand. Harry laughed.

"What?"

"Well it was a thought!" Pansy said defensively. "But... If you really don't know?"

"I don't."

"Well... Under the Peace and Prosperity Act passed by the Wizenmagot," Pansy began, "trade with the Muggle world has been... Suspended."

Harry blinked. "Trade? There's trade with the Muggle World?"

Pansy snorted. "Of course there's trade! My father makes his living with interests in trading companies! Where did you think all that food and cloth and everything else came from?"

"Magic?" Harry said, a bit lamely. Pansy shook her head.

"No, no... Muggles produce so much excess, we just buy all that stuff off them," she said. "After all, gold is worth plenty to these magicless twerps. And we've no shortage of that if we have the right raw materials. But we need the raw materials or we don't have anything."

"So, why did they cut off trade?" Harry asked, mystified. Pansy sighed and shrugged.

"What else? Appease the Dark Lord," she said. Harry gaped, and would have choked on his drink had he been sipping anything.

"What?!"

"Shh," Pansy hissed, and Harry once again felt eyes on him. He cleared his throat.

"I mean... What?" He said quietly. Pansy sighed.

"Fudge thought that if we cut off contact with the Muggle World, it would make the Dark Lord less inclined to attack," Pansy explained. "And apparently it's worked, but..." She grimaced. "But the wizarding world is facing a bit of... Well... A crisis."

"And you ran away to escape it?" Harry guessed. Pansy snorted.

"I ran away so my parents wouldn't marry me off to keep our house," she huffed. Harry blinked, and sympathy entered his eyes. Pansy looked away, scowling.

"Oh... I'm so sorry," he said. "And since you can't use magic or they'll find you-"

"Yeah," Pansy muttered. She rolled her eyes. "And of course, I stumbled into you. Merlin's thumbs, I really am unlucky aren't I?"

"Dating Draco Malfoy? Yeah, that's unlucky," Harry said with a nod. Pansy snorted in amusement, and it felt strangely good to see a smile on her face. One he caused.

"Yeah," Pansy sighed. She pulled her jacket back on. "Look..." She worked her jaw, as though around something unpleasant. "I... Thanks for the food, but I really should be-"

"Do you have anywhere to stay?" Harry asked bluntly. Pansy scowled.

"I... I can find some way to stay! There are plenty of stupid Muggles who would take in a girl!" Pansy said. Harry coughed, and shook his head.

"Or, you can stay with me," Harry quickly offered. Pansy flushed.

"I... What?" She asked.

"Stay. With me," Harry said. "I mean, my relatives won't like it but they'll have to put up with it. After all," and here he smiled, "what kind of Gryffindor would I be if I didn't help you out? Ya know, knight rescuing the damsel in distress?"

Pansy scowled, and crossed her arms under her breasts. She looked thoughtful for a time, and Harry was about to speak again when she smiled. Almost knowingly, and with an edge that made Harry blush hard.

"I see," she said with a nod. "Well... I could do worse. A LOT worse." She eyed him, and Harry felt a bit... Stiff. "Anyway, take me home then," and she reached out to caress his face playfully, "darling~."

Harry coughed, slammed some money down on the table, and rose. Pansy wrapped her arms around his arm and laid her head against his shoulder. He blushed heavily, and slowly walked to the door. The perky waitress from before waved her hand.

"Goodnight you two! Have fun!" She said, and once again there was that innuendo. Was that just a girl thing or what?

Harry didn't know. He decided he'd resolve the mystery of women later. He had to focus on his next obstacle-Getting the Dursleys to let Pansy stay...

* * *

Harry approached Number Four Privet Drive from the backyard, Pansy still clutching at him tightly. He spared her a glance that was meant to be comforting, but the smile on her face still had that almost hungry bent to it.

"You live here?" Pansy whispered, eying the house with some disdain. "How on Earth do you tell this house from all the others?"

"It's where I feel most miserable," Harry said simply, shrugging. "The Dursley home. Now come on."

He hopped over the fence into the backyard. Pansy followed, her legs surprisingly toned. Harry flushed when she looked at him, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Being on the run hasn't been much fun, but I suppose there _are_ advantages to it," she said, quite deliberately brushing her skirt off to show off her hips. Harry swallowed, and quickly averted his eyes. _She's a Slytherin, she's just messing with me,_ he thought to himself firmly.

"Now, we're going to have to be quiet about this," Harry said in a low voice. "My uncle's entertaining some important guests and we don't want to get in the middle of it."

"Important guests?" Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes! Presumably," he said. He knelt down and retrieved the spare key from under a fake rock. He stood up and put the key to the lock. The door came unlocked, and Harry very slowly turned the knob to open it. He looked around, trying very hard to ignore Pansy pressing herself up against his back.

"Are we clear?" She murmured, her breath hot against the back of his neck. He forced down a shudder that wasn't of disgust at all.

_JUST MESSING WITH ME! _He reminded himself.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, taking his first few steps into the Dursley home. Pansy followed. They crept down the hallway, Pansy eyeing the photos on the walls with some distaste.

They almost made it to the stairs, when Petunia appeared through the door to the sitting room. All three stopped and stared at each other for a moment. Harry quickly tried to come up with something other than pulling his wand, but before he could Pansy stepped forward.

"Hello Mrs. Dursley," Pansy said, her voice having dropped all it's usual condescension and now being quite... Pleasant. Petunia blinked in some astonishment.

"I-"

"I'm Pansy Parkinson, and your nephew has _just_ shown me the most wonderful time!" Pansy said, looking quite deliberately into the sitting room. Vernon sat there with two bored looking men in suits. Vernon himself was starting to turn purple around his gills and Harry again tried to speak.

"And even offered his coat to me," Pansy continued, still sickly sweet. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Pansy Parkinson, so sorry to interrupt." She looked appropriately contrite. "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"

"Oh, no! No, not at all," said the blonde American, adjusting his suit. He looked over at Vernon. "You never told us you had a nephew, Vernon!"

"Such a shame, too," Pansy immediately interjected, striding in with Harry's hand in her own. She practically dragged him to the empty couch, and they sat down facing the foreign visitors. "I'm quite sure it was due to simple _modesty_ on Mr. Dursley's part! His nephew is a friend of mine from school. Took me out for a lovely date tonight!"

"I... It..." Harry stuttered, but at an elbow from Pansy he quickly got out, "yes. We did. I-I did!"

"He's such a nice young man, paying for everything," Pansy sighed, squeezing Harry's hand. "Such a gentleman! Well..." And here she smirked very slightly. "Not _too much_ of one, if you understand?" She then blushed, and held her free hand up to her cheek. "Oh my, perhaps I've said too much..."

Vernon made a choking sound. The two Americans stared for a moment, and then laughed in unison. The boredom on their faces vanished, and Harry noted they seemed a lot more relaxed. He imagined an evening with the Dursleys was awful for anyone, not just him.

"Haha! You're a spitfire, young lady," the brown haired man chuckled. He looked at Vernon with some mild reproachment. "You shouldn't have hidden your nephew and his girlfriend away, Vernon!"

"Ah, well... They were out on a date," Vernon managed in a strained tone. "You know, young people have to have their... F-Fun."

"Quite right!" The blonde man laughed. "Glad to see you're not nearly as stuffy as we were led to believe!"

Petunia slowly came back into the sitting room, standing next to her husband with a similar look of muted horror. Harry didn't think he was much better himself, as Pansy proceeded to charm the two businessmen like there was no tomorrow. He found himself laughing a few times himself, though Pansy's elbow provided most of the incentive. Even Petunia lightened up a bit, especially when Pansy gave her a sincere compliment on her cooking. Vernon, on the other hand, kept looking like he wanted to gulp down the entire bottle of wine on the table.

It was astonishing just how charming Pansy could really be, and Harry was thankful she'd taken the reins. Killing monsters and beating up dark wizards was his thing. Talking convincingly and being pretty? Not really.

At long last, the two men rose and said their goodbyes. They shook hands with Harry and Petunia, and one kissed the hand of Pansy. She blushed and giggled appropriately, as the two men turned back to Vernon.

"Gotta say, this has really been great, Vernon!" The blonde said happily, pumping his hand up and down. "I think this deal is going to go through just fine!"

"I... R-Really?" Vernon asked. The brown haired man laughed and patted Vernon on the shoulder.

"Of course! You really showed us," he said. He gave a wink. "Sending them out and bringing them in just at the right time. I underestimated you," he murmured. Vernon smiled, looking quite pleased.

"Ah, yes! Yes, of course!"

"Please don't forget about me, gentlemen," Pansy said with a sunny smile. The two men laughed.

"Of course not, Pansy! Never!" The blonde man replied.

"Have a good night, all of you... And especially you, Harry," the brown haired man said, smirking a bit at Harry. His cheeks went bright red, as Pansy giggled.

"Oh you!"

The two men left, and Vernon walked them to their cars. Petunia immediately spun around and scowled at Harry.

"Potter! Exactly what is the meaning of this?!" She demanded. "How could you bring a-a-!?"

"He saved me," Pansy said quickly. Petunia started, as did Harry.

"I-Wha-?"

"You recall those creatures that attacked him and your son last year?" Pansy quickly spoke. She gave Petunia a look hinting at trauma. "He saved me from one of those..." She looked to Harry with a warm smile. "I... I really can't repay him enough..." She slowly looked back at her. "And I have no where else to go."

Petunia's face showed something Harry had never seen before: Sympathy.

"Oh... You poor dear," Petunia murmured, walking over to Pansy and hugging her. Pansy hugged her back, burying her face in her shoulder. Harry stared in disbelief, and pinched himself. He then pinched himself harder, just in case he was being hexed.

Vernon soon lumbered in through the door, laughing... Which abruptly changed to a glare as he saw Pansy and Harry. "Now boy! You very nearly ruined me there with you and your tart and I'll-!"

"Vernon!" Petunia snapped, and her husband's face fell. "Don't insult her! She's been through a terrible time and she helped save the evening!"

"But... But..." Vernon sputtered. Petunia sighed, and examined Pansy carefully.

"Harry, you'll sleep on the couch," she said. "Pansy? Let's get you cleaned up and find one of my old dressing gowns, I think they'll fit..."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Dursley," Pansy said, again with utter sincerity.

"Now now, call me Aunt Petunia," Petunia said with a sickeningly sweet smile. One Pansy returned.

"But-But-!" Vernon tried to get out, but Petunia's glare shut him up. "I..."

"Vernon, get a blanket for the boy," Petunia stated flatly. She beamed at Pansy and led her upstairs. "Now, tell me, what size do you wear...?"

Harry watched Pansy go up the stairs with Petunia. The Slytherin girl spared him a glance, and smirked just a bit... Before winking. Harry blinked, and felt a little smile come to his face. Vernon watched the women go upstairs, and turned to glare at Harry.

"Well boy... Get your blanket!" He barked, though with far less venom than he usually mustered. "And no funny business with that... That..." He looked upstairs where his wife and their new houseguest had gone, and gulped. "_Young lady_ while she's here," he decided on with a glower.

Harry bit back a laugh, but couldn't help his smile. "Of course, Uncle Vernon," he agreed.

Who knew he would ever have a happy memory thanks to Pansy Parkinson? The emasculated look on Vernon's face was going to stay with him for a long, long time...

* * *

_- - - - - -_

The Dursley couch was actually quite comfortable, though there wasn't as much back support as Harry was used to. Frankly that was expected-With the weight of the male Dursleys to crush it for years on end, it was a miracle it was still in one piece.

So Harry snoozed, almost getting to sleep... Before his fine tuned senses of imminent doom snapped him awake. He whipped his wand out and had a spell on his lips.

"EEP!"

Which was rewarded with Pansy yelping and dropping a glass of milk, which shattered. Harry lowered his wand, as they both breathed deeply.

"... The bloody hell was that for?!" Pansy hissed. Harry got his heartrate under control, and tried very hard to not focus on Pansy in that thin nightdress. It was thin and white with a cheap boring floral print, the kind of gown Aunt Petunia preferred. On a teenaged girl though... With bare legs and an actual figure and _not_ his detestable relative, it was-

"You woke me up," Harry said quickly. "And given how often people try to kill me, I think my reaction was-was perfectly justified," he hissed back. Pansy huffed, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, _thanks_ for reminding me," she muttered back. She looked down at the expanding puddle of milk and broken glass and grimaced. "Oh..." She knelt down and reached for a throwrug. Harry reached out too, and grasped her wrist. She started, and he shook his head.

"You don't want to use that, it'll smell," he said. "I'll be back. Stay here." He rose and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a washcloth, wet it in the sink, and walked back to the living room. He knelt down to wipe up the mess, taking care to put the glass pieces in a single pile. Pansy watched him, almost fascinated. He gave her a glance and frowned.

"What?" He murmured, a bit annoyed. Pansy shrugged.

"I dunno... It's just..." She sighed. "It isn't exactly how I pictured the great Harry Potter: On his knees scrubbing floors."

Harry stared at her, and couldn't help a little chuckle. Pansy frowned.

"What?"

"I never imagined Pansy Parkinson showing _concern_ about the Great Harry Potter," he replied in a mocking echo. "What? Sorry I'm not a good enough rival for your boytoy?"

Pansy huffed. "Please. The best Draco can do is throw his father's money and name around. He hasn't an _ounce_ of cunning, not one bit." She sat down on the couch, and crossed her arms under her breasts. She leaned forward slightly, and Harry frowned.

"Pansy?"

"And he really is... Is hopeless," Pansy went on with a sigh. "I mean, I kept steering him towards Daphne but he hasn't a _clue._ He's utterly blind to... To anyone's feelings. I mean, sometimes he tries to cheer me up but he really is hopeless at it and..." She shut her mouth and scowled at him. "What am I telling you all this for?"

Harry carefully put the broken glass into his washcloth, and set it aside. He sat down on the couch next to Pansy, and shrugged himself.

"I guess... You need someone to talk to," Harry said. "I mean... At least I know what you're talking about, right?"

Pansy stared at Harry for a moment, before returning her gaze to the floor. "I... Yeah," she mumbled. "I've been able to get away with this for a while but... Ya know, real conversation... Is kind of nice."

"Even with me?"

"Even with you," Pansy said with a nod. Harry smiled a bit, and she returned one back. Hesitant, almost shy, but definitely a smile.

"So... Were your parents going to marry you to Draco?" Harry asked. Pansy sighed, and nodded.

"Yeah..."

"And you said no, and ran off?" Harry asked. Pansy snorted.

"I ran off because I wasn't going to be married off for... For food, and for my parents to keep living in their house!" She shook her head. "I mean, I knew I'd be expected to marry for advantage, for politics and so on."

"You expected it?" Harry asked. Pansy sniffed.

"Yes. I don't have a particularly wide field of suitors, Potter. Pureblood males of my station are in rather short supply, and if it wasn't Draco it'd be Blaise, or a Nott, or a Flint, or Merlin forbid a _Crabbe_ or _Goyle..."_ She made a face. "But it wouldn't be just to enrich my parents! It would be to... To continue the household! To be a true Lady! Not..." She sighed. "Not just a bargaining chip. I mean, if I married Draco now I'd just be a bit of cattle, or a prize in his house. No inheritance for us, no house, just me sitting around popping out babies and... And never knowing anything else."

Harry slowly nodded. "I see..."

"I-I couldn't do that!" Pansy huffed. "Not when my parents were just tossing me over so they could keep their mansion and servants and riches and... And..."

"And they gave you up before all that?" Harry asked. Pansy shut her eyes tightly, and her hands balled into fists. Harry hesitated for a moment, but he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, and he heard her cry.

"Stupid... Stupid me," she sniffled. "I shouldn't have run away..."

"Yes, you should have," Harry said. Pansy choked on another sob, and looked up at him. Her eyes were red and her face stained with tears. For some reason though, Harry couldn't help the thought she was kind of pretty.

He then squelched that thought like Hagrid's brother stepping on an Acromantula.

"We've... Ya know, had our differences," he admitted, "but even someone like you doesn't deserve that."

Pansy sniffled, and pressed her face against his chest. She sighed.

"Stupid Potter," she muttered. Harry smiled and stroked her back.

"Stupid Parkinson," he replied, unsure of what else to say. 


	2. Chapter 2

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

_Summer before Sixth Year..._

* * *

Hermione Granger was lounging in a sunchair in her backyard, wearing a bikini and sunglasses. Her ears were covered with earphones and she relaxed to the soothing voice of David Tennant reading the audiobook version of _Henry IV. _She'd been initially suspicious of the revived Doctor Who series, but David Tennant had sold her on it. Hook, line, and sinker. And mixing intellectual pursuits with her teenaged fantasies was certainly something she could get behind.

"Yes, yes, sell that Falstaff David! _Sell it!"_ Hermione sighed happily, her hands resting on her hips.

_"Tis not due yet: I would be loth to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me? Well, 'tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if Honour prick me off when I come on? how then?_"

"Yes, yes, yessss..." Hermione hissed, hugging herself and allowing an almost girlish titter from her lips.

_"Can Honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is Honour? a word-"_

"Hermione?" Her mother said, and Hermione yelped as she tried to cover herself. She only succeeded in sliding off the sunchair into the grass, face first.

"Oof!" She grunted. She got up onto all fours, and groaned as she rubbed her nose. "Ow ow ow...!"

"Sorry to interrupt your Tennant time," Amelia Granger said with a knowing smirk, "but you have a phone call."

"Ah? A phone call?" Hermione asked_, _pulling her headphones off and sheepishly placing them on the table next to her chair. "Who from?"

"Ron Weasley, I believe," Amelia said. She handed the phone to her daughter. Hermione nodded, sat on the chair and held the phone to her ear.

"Ron?"

"_HERMIONE!"_ Ron shouted over the phone, and Hermione held the receiver away.

"Bloody hell Ron!" Hermione cursed. She looked apologetically at her mother, who just smiled, before she held it back up. "Speak normally! There's no need to shout!"

"_Oh, sorry," _Ron said. "_I just can't figure out how my voice reaches all the way out there on this little wire!"_

"It involves converting sound waves into electronic impulses..." She trailed off as she imagined Ron's blank expression, and sighed. "Nevermind. What is it?"

"_Hermione, we could really use your help,"_ Ron said quickly. "_You see, we're running out of food."_

Hermione blinked. "... Can't you go to the shop?"

"_No no no, you don't understand,"_ Ron said, "everyone_'s running out of food."_

Hermione gaped. "Wha... What do you mean?!"

"_The Twins will explain it once they get to your house,"_ Ron said. Hermione scowled.

"Wait, what? The Twins?"

"_Yeah, they were going to grab you and bring you to the Burrow,"_ Ron said, "_but I decided I should at least warn you first."_

"Before I'm abducted?" Hermione asked sarcastically. Which flew over Ron's head as he cheerfully replied in the affirmative.

"_Yep! Besides, having you here will er... Maybe make Mum stop pestering me."_

"About...?" Hermione prompted.

"_These marriage proposals we keep getting,"_ he said. Hermione's eyebrows shot straight up.

"_What?!"_

"_I'll explain when you get here! Promise!" _Ron said urgently. Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"All right, all right... When will they get here?"

"Blimey!" Gasped a male voice above her.

"Hell yeah," gasped an identical voice. Hermione slowly looked up into what appeared to be thin air. This changed as an invisible flap opened, and George and Fred poked their heads out of what was some kind of invisibility construct. They grinned down at her as Hermione flushed in embarrassment.

"Hey Hermione! Why haven't you shown that off around school?" Fred crowed.

"Hubba hubba, you could stop traffic in that!" George added. Amelia Granger cleared her throat, and the Weasley twins looked up at her. They smiled apologetically.

"Beautiful home, ma'am," Fred said.

"And daughter. And yourself, too," George added. Amelia smiled.

"Thank you. Hermione will be ready to go shortly, as soon as you stop ogling her," she said. Hermione gaped in scandal at her mother.

"MUM!"

The Twins looked at eachother, and back to Hermione. Fred held his finger up.

"Just a minute more?" He asked. Ameila hummed.

"Well... If she's okay with showing off like that-"

"MUM!" Hermione screeched.

* * *

After dressing, Hermione mounted up with George on the back of his broom and they flew on to the Burrow under the invisibility shroud. She would have sat in front of him, but she remembered the last time she'd done that with a blush. So no, she would be behind him.

Off they flew over the countryside, over the cities and forests of Britain. It was a truly breathtaking sight, and Hermione appreciated it a bit. The height, not so much.

Fortunately, she was able to focus thanks to her old friend: Righteous Indignation.

"Fudge did _WHAT?!"_ Hermione shouted in disbelief. George nodded.

"I know! Cut off all trade with the Muggle world!"

"Trying to appease the Death Eaters," Fred said.

"Very short sighted," George said.

"Doomed to failure," Fred said.

"So naturally, it appealed to them," George stated.

"Bureaucrats doing something stupid," Fred said with a dry expression.

"Who knew?" George shrugged.

"Practically unheard of," Fred stated.

Hermione sighed. "Right, so... What's your big issue?"

"Food," the twins said together. They flew down, and the tangled architecture of the Burrow came into view. They landed in front of it, where Ron was sitting on the steps. He stood up and grinned.

"Hermione! Thank Merlin!" He cried.

"What, no love for us?" Asked Fred.

"We're hurt," George said, his lip wobbling slightly. Ron rolled his eyes.

"She's a lot more useful than you guys!"

"True," George admitted.

"And prettier," Fred said, looking Hermione up and down. She blushed with an angry glare.

"Would you stop that! Look, what does the law actually say?"

George and Fred looked at each other. They looked at Ron. Ron pulled out a piece of parchment, and unfurled it. He cleared his throat.

"'Henceforth, it is illegal to exchange legal tender in the form of Galleons, Sickles, Knuts or magical artifacts with the Muggle world for any form of trade,'" Ron read. Hermione blinked.

"Didn't you guys think about... Just exchanging your money for Muggle money?"

George and Fred shrugged. "We would, but..."

"How much is a few measly Galleons going to get us in Muggle money?" Asked Fred.

"And besides, how much food will we get out of a Muggle shop?" George asked, shrugging.

Hermione looked back and forth between all three of them. She sighed.

"Hang on... Take me to the nearest Muggle town?"

It was a quick jaunt on broomstick to the nearest town. They landed in a small park, and walked out to the sidewalk. Ron looked around as cars passed by and people walked around. He blinked.

"Man... This is really amazing!" He grinned and stepped out into the street. "That's awesome! That car looks like a Hippogriff!"

Hermione yanked Ron out of the road, and the car passed by with loud beeps of its horn.

"WATCH IT YOU PIKEY!" Shouted the driver out the window. Ron frowned.

"Pikey...?"

"Come on," Hermione sighed. She dragged all three of them to the nearby bank. She walked up to the teller, who smiled cheerfully at her.

"Hello, how may we help you today?" She asked. Hermione held out the single Galleon and placed it on the counter.

"I'd like the value of this coin in pounds Sterling, please?"

The teller blinked, but shrugged. "Ah, certainly ma'am!"

"What's a single galleon going to get us?" Ron complained. The teller went into the back room, and conferred with several other employees. Hermione waited patiently. Finally, the teller returned with a smile. She opened the register, and began counting out pound notes. Ron, Fred and George watched.

"Right... That's one thousand, two hundred and fifty pounds Sterling," the teller said cheerfully. "Any further business today?"

"Oh no, that'll be all," Hermione said cheerfully, taking the money. "Thank you."

"So, paper money? What are we going to be able to buy with all that?" Ron asked.

"Clearly, the money represents an agreed upon value," George surmised.

"Rather than being a measure of pure concrete value," Fred suggested. Hermione smiled.

"Very good, you two!"

Ron scowled and crossed his arms. "So? It's abstract stuff. I'm not that great at it, I'll admit. But you need guys good at practical thinking! Down to earth stuff!"

Hermione nodded. "Of course, of course."

"So, what's our next stop?" Ron asked.

"The super market," Hermione smiled.

"Super... Market?" Ron asked.

At the entrance to the market, Hermione just smirked. She looked back at Fred and George, who were suitably impressed. When she came to Ron, however...

"... Super market...? You undersold it, Hermione!" Ron gasped. "This... This is a temple of food! I never knew such places could exist!" He walked into the market, dazed. His eyes were wide as he took in the glorious sights around him. He stumbled near a table where an old lady held up tiny weenies on sticks.

"Would you care for a free sample?" She asked kindly. Ron actually teared up.

"F-Free...?" He hugged her. "You... You are a wonderful, wonderful woman! A goddess of a bountiful harvest!"

"Ah... Well, thank you lad...?" The woman said uncertainly.

Fred and George glanced at each other.

"This is not entirely unexpected," Fred commented.

"Kind of predictable, really," George said.

"That he'd go nuts over so much food in one place?" Hermione asked dryly.

"No, that he'd be so eloquent about food," Fred said.

"Also the going mad over it, yes," George said with a nod.

* * *

It was night when Hermione, Ron and the Twins returned to the Burrow, their groceries enchanted to fly behind their brooms. Hermione rode along with Ron this time, and sagged slightly against him in fatigue.

"Geez... So much to buy..." She mumbled. Ron grinned.

"And we afforded it all?! Really? Wow! Ya mean, our Galleons are worth that much?"

"In a manner of speaking," Hermione said. "You can't melt it down otherwise charms placed on them will alert the goblins. That said, my parents exchange their pounds for Galleons for me all the time." She frowned thoughtfully, even in her exhaustion her keen mind working overtime. "I suppose Muggleborns by their very nature are exempt from trading with the Muggle world. As long as we don't use wizard money for purchases itself, and we don't melt down the coins..."

"Then we're set!" Ron said happily. "Oh man, Mum is going to love you Hermione!"

"She might not if anyone cottons onto what we're actually doing," Hermione warned. Ron scoffed.

"What, are you crazy? People are starving here!"

"Ron, the point of a black market is for it to be _secret,"_ Hermione lectured at him. But since the topic was something decidedly un-Hermione, Ron didn't feel the need to just flat out lapse into a bored stupor. The Twins flew up on either side, boxing Hermione in.

"You know, for such a good girl you have quite the _naughty_ side, Hermione," George commented.

"All sorts of hidden facets to you," Fred added.

Hermione looked between the Twins and flushed. "What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded.

"Oh! Look! Home!" Ron shouted, bringing his broom down. The Twins and their groceries followed, and they slid into a perfect landing right in front of the Burrow. Molly Weasley came out, Ginny a step behind her. The red-headed matriarch gasped in amazement.

"Where... Where did you get all this food?!" She cried. "And in...?" She took out a can of beans and frowned at it. "Cans?"

"Hermione helped us out!" George said.

"Found a loophole in the law, so to speak," Fred stated.

"Exchanged our Galleons for Muggle money," George went on.

"Nobody caught us, or nobody cares," Ron suggested. Molly gasped.

"What?! You mean we're...?"

"The law is written so vaguely that we can probably get away with it," Hermione said carefully. "But we need to keep it secret."

"Right," Molly said. "Fred! George! Start setting up some fields! I'll put together some crops. Ronald, put all this away with Ginny! And Hermione?"

"Ah, yes Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked nervously. Molly beamed and hugged her tightly.

"I can't begin to thank you enough," she sighed.

"Mmph... J-Just doing the right thing, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said quickly with a bit of a smile. It was impossible not to with this caliber of hug. Molly grinned a bit.

"You know, I can't just let such a thing like this slide," she said. "Tell me..." And here she glanced at her boys, hard at work, "any of them... Catch your fancy?"

Hermione gaped. "M-Mrs. Weasley!"

"I'm just saying! You can already keep them in line, that's very useful," Molly said.

"You don't have to marry off your sons to me Mrs. Weasley, it's fine!" Hermione insisted.

"Why? What's wrong with them?" Molly demanded, suddenly on the offensive. Hermione pushed back from Mrs. Weasley's arms and shook her head.

"Nothing! I mean... Well, some things but I'm just not interested in marriage right now! I mean, I have to finish school, figure out my future...!"

Molly sighed. "Oh. I see. I guess it wasn't precisely fair of me to put such expectations on you," she said. She shrugged. "It was... Well, rather desperate to be honest. We have so little, and the old ways of marriage to secure alliances and so on... I didn't mean to offend you, dear."

"No offense intended, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said with a smile. "I mean, you haven't made any formal arrangements or magical contracts over it, so no harm done!"

"Ah... Oh... Yes," Molly said, frowning suddenly. Hermione frowned back.

"Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh, it isn't anything to do with you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. "I just recall I brought the subject up with my husband, and I..." She shook her head and laughed. "No, no! He wouldn't!" She turned to head into the house, and Hermione followed. "All the same, I think I'll just call him up and tell him-"

The fireplace burst into green flame, and Mr. Weasley appeared. He wasn't the only one though: Luna Lovegood burst out of the flames, tumbling a bit before getting to her feet. She brushed her skirt and long apron off, and adjusted her blouse straps. Hermione's eyes bugged out a bit: Her attire made her look like some sort of... Housewife?

"Honey, I'm home!" Arthur said cheerfully. "And guess who I brought?" He grinned and held out his arm to show off Luna. Luna smiled dreamily, and bowed.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley," she said. "I'm quite happy to be joining your family. May I call you Mum? Or would you prefer Mummy?"

"... Arthur," Molly began with a growl. Ron came into the kitchen, carrying a few loaves of bread.

"Ah? Dad? Luna? What's she doing here?" He asked. Luna beamed.

"I'm so glad you asked that, Ronald," she said cheerfully. "And as my husband, you have every right to know what I'm doing and who I'm doing."

Ron's jaw dropped and his face burned bright red. "Hwah-OOF!"

And Luna pounced him to the floor, kissing him feverishly. Arthur chuckled as Hermione and Molly gaped.

"ARTHUR WEASLEY!" Molly roared. Arthur coughed.

"Ah, yes! Luna, dear! You should wait until after the ceremony for that!"

"CEREMONY?!" Molly screamed.

"H-Hermione! Help!" Ron gasped just before Luna resumed examining his tonsils. Hermione coughed, and slowly backed away for the door.

"Good luck with that, Ron!" She said with a wave.

"HERMIONEEEEE!"

* * *

It took several minutes for Molly Weasley to separated Luna from Ron's lips, retrieve Hermoine from her escape, and get the Twins and Ginny to stop laughing. Manage it she did though, and they were all seated in the Burrow sitting room. Ron was sitting on the couch, with Luna cuddled up to him. Hermione sat in an armchair with a pout and blush as the Twins had bound her with their newest invention: Shibari Surprise. The Twins themselves were sitting on another couch, looking quite pleased with themselves. Ginny sat on the floor, scowling because she had to sit on the floor. And the Weasley parents stood on either side of the couch Ron and Luna sat on, arguing.

"I cannot believe you just-just married Ron off like that!" Molly said indignantly.

"Now now, dear, relax," Arthur said, his hands raised in self defense. "This will work out just fine! I mean, we've known the Lovegoods for quite some time-"

"They're _fifteen!"_ Molly shrieked. Arthur shrugged.

"So? It's just a few years earlier than we married-"

"NOT THE POINT! Who do you think you are, Lucius Malfoy? Marrying off our youngest son!" Molly huffed. She glared death at her husband. "I wasn't even told!"

"Neither was I!" Ron squeaked, as Luna continued to cuddle him.

"Quiet Ron," Molly ordered. She glared at Arthur. "I cannot believe this! You went behind my back and everything-!"

"Dear, please!" Arthur said. "Think of it this way. Luna's father has been getting a lot of heat for his work with the Quibbler. Marrying Luna off helps make her more secure than she otherwise would be, and strengthens our bonds with her family!"

"I really don't know why I'm still here," Hermione interjected, squirming in her bondage.

"Am I also to marry Hermione?" Luna asked. Ron and Hermione blushed.

"WHAT?!"

"Well, group marriages are legal in the wizarding world are they not?" Luna said, tilting her head. "I suppose I wouldn't mind having my own wife, since Ronald has me as one. Rather fair, really."

"How are you so _calm_ about this?!" Ron demanded of his new bride. Luna smiled, and snuggled up to him. The youngest Weasley boy squeaked.

"Because I'm getting precisely what I want," she said dreamily. "A big family, a wonderful husband, and access to all the Slopworts I can flense."

"What," Hermione deadpanned. Luna nodded.

"Slopworts. Very dangerous. But when flensed, they carry no secrets and you can keep them as contraceptives," she said, as though it was obvious to anyone. "Everyone knows that."

"Of course," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes. "Could someone _please_ untie me?"

"Still kind of experimental," George said.

"Can't argue with the results though," Fred leered. Hermione glared with her most indignant expression, but the Twins just grinned right back.

"Nevertheless, I am not happy at all about this!" Molly said flatly. Ron smiled.

"Thanks Mum!"

"I mean, we didn't even have a proper ceremony!" Molly hissed. Ron's face fell.

"What?!"

"Oh, yes Mrs. Weasley," Luna said with a smile. "I would like a proper ceremony as well. Nothing huge, just something small, cozy, with Tesla coils to keep the Nargles out."

"Certainly dear, and you can call me Mum," Molly said with a warm smile. Arthur seemed to relax, even as his youngest son did not. Molly glared at her husband.

"Don't think you're off the hook!"

Arthur sighed. "I didn't think I was."

"MUM! DAD!" Ron screeched. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I DON'T WANT TO GET MARRIED!"

"Well you are, and you're certainly not going to divorce her!" Molly sniffed. "Unless Hermione has some objections?" She looked over at Hermione hopefully. Ron, aghast, shook his head frantically while Luna played with the threads of his jumper. Hermione scowled.

"I'm still tied up."

"Well you can still answer my question, right?" Molly asked.

"Hermione! Come on, help me! Get me out of this!" Ron cried. Luna didn't seem hurt, she just hummed a little tune as she toyed with Ron's hair.

"Can you get me out of this?" Hermione asked sweetly. Ron blinked, and looked to the Twins. They just smiled. He sighed and looked back at Hermione.

"Well, not right now but-!"

"Then deal with it," Hermione growled. Ron gaped.

"HERMIONE! Shouldn't you be outraged at the-the... The breach of justice? The social abuse? The-The abuse of my rights?"

"Little hard to be worried about that when I'm _still. Tied. Up,"_ Hermione said flatly. "And in any case, I'd have to look into Wizarding Law..." She trailed off and looked at Molly and Arthur. "And besides," she added, "your parents seem _just fine_ with it."

Ron gaped, betrayed. "HERMIONE!"

"RONALD!" Luna shouted. At everyone's looks, she shrugged. "I didn't want to be left out. Ronald, can you yell my name now?"

"Wha...?" Ron sighed. "Luna."

"We'll have to work on that," Luna sighed, again playing with Ron's sweater threads. The redhead blushed.

"LUNA!"

The blonde girl beamed.

"That's better!"

"Ginny!" Ron tried desperately. Ginny looked at her parents.

"You didn't marry me off, did you Dad?" Ginny asked. Arthur shook his head.

"No."

"Good!" Molly cried.

"And you're not going to any time soon?" Ginny further inquired.

"Of course not, dear," Molly sighed.

"And not without telling me first?" Ginny asked again. Her parents shook their heads. Ginny smiled, rose, and walked upstairs.

"Fine by me! Luna, if you want to talk my door's always open!"

"Thank you Ginny!" Luna said happily. Ron managed to disentangle himself from his wife and got up.

"Can I-?"

"Show your wife to your room? Of course dear," Molly said. Ron felt his arm in Luna's deathgrip again, and he sighed.

"Right," He mumbled. "C'mon..." He sulked his way upstairs, Luna following after with a dreamy look in her eyes. The Twins made good their escape as well, as the Weasley parents went into the kitchen to continue their argument...

"... ISN'T ANYONE GOING TO UNTIE ME?!" Hermione shrieked.

* * *

Ginny had taken off to do something alone, so Hermione was staying in her room. She read a book on charms while sitting on the guest bed, while Luna sat next to her with a cheerful smile. She was kicking her legs excitedly, and let out happy sighs every thirty-two seconds exactly. Hermione counted. At long last, she could no longer ignore her friend and looked over at her.

"Luna?" She asked.

"Oh Hermione, it's just... Wonderful," Luna said happily. "I'm a married woman. Married to the man of my dreams."

Hermione stared at the blonde in disbelief so hard, she shut her book. Luna continued to smile on, oblivious.

"Ah... Well..."

Luna frowned.

"You don't consider Ronald to be the man of my dreams?" Luna asked.

"Well... Er..."

"He's not who you would consider to be the man of your dreams?" Luna asked. Hermione coughed, and rubbed her cheek.

"Well, I didn't say that..."

"So you'd be interested in-"

"No! No, I didn't mean that!" Hermione said quickly, raising her hands in defense. "I'm not-I-I mean I-!"

"You've thought about it?" Luna pressed.

"I'm... I'm not trying to move in on Ron, really! You have nothing to worry about!" Hermione insisted, leaping to the obvious conclusion. Luna smiled and shook her head.

"Oh no Hermione, I'm not worried about that."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Good..."

"I'm just interested in talking about emotions, as apparently that is what girls do," Luna said. She looked at her hands. "I don't really talk to a lot of girls, except Ginny. And even then we don't talk much about boys or girl things. Well, she does. I just listen."

Hermione worried her lower lip. She sighed and rested a hand over Luna's. The blonde girl didn't look up.

"I'm sorry Luna," she said. "I... I don't talk about a lot of what you'd call 'girl things' either," she admitted. Luna nodded, and looked over at Hermione with a small smile.

"I suppose I just want you to think... Well of me," she admitted. Hermione frowned.

"Why would you think otherwise?"

"Well, I am married to Ron," Luna said. "And you didn't seem to like the idea of us being married-"

"I'm more concerned about the _situation,_ not any personal feelings I might have," Hermione said. "And frankly I'm concerned about you, being so happy about this!"

Luna beamed. "Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Well... He is kind of... Ron-ish," Hermione said delicately.

"You're always so quick to say disparaging things about him, why not to my face?" Luna asked, interested. "Is it because we're married?"

Hermione blinked rapidly. "... Kind of, yeah."

"Well, don't worry. I know he can be pigheaded and stubborn and jealous," Luna said. "And simple minded, save in chess. He is very good at chess." She smiled brightly. "And he can be insensitive and a bit stupid, but he has a good heart and with the right pressure he becomes..." She sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. "_Magnificent."_

Hermione stared at Luna in less disbelief, though she was still weirded out. Luna spoke again, after taking a breath.

"I think marriage should let you bring the best out of each other. I've seen Ron at his best. I want to see it more. I want to be someone he'll show it for, and to." She tilted her head and beamed, her eyes closing cutely. "And I want him to bring out the best in me."

Hermione slowly nodded, feeling touched. Luna's smile changed tone.

"Also, Weasleys are apparently very good in the sack."

Hermione's cheeks went bright red. "LUNA!"

Luna blinked. "What? That is what my father told me."

"Your _father_ told you that?!" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"He said that it was a factor to consider in the marriage arrangements," Luna said thoughtfully. She rubbed her chin. "He was very matter of fact about it, but I think he was simply not comfortable with discussing his daughter's sexuality. I can understand that."

"I... No wonder," Hermione mumbled. She rubbed her face and sighed. "Honestly... You can be so frustrating." She gave Luna a hug anyway, and Luna returned it. "That said," Hermione continued, "I guess I'm just kind of shocked you take it so easily."

"You aren't talking me out of it?" Luna asked. Hermione laughed.

"If I tried, we'd probably end up talking about Nargles or some such non... Er... Things like that," she corrected herself at Luna's slight scowl. The scowl vanished and Luna smiled again. "But no, I guess not."

"Do you think Ronald will want you to talk him out of it?" Luna asked, looking a bit worried. Hermione chuckled, and grasped Luna's hands between her own.

"Trust me Luna. I don't think he'll ask me to talk him out of it..."

* * *

Ron grumbled as he kicked a can against the wall of the house. It bounced back and Ron kicked it again, and back again, and back again.

"Can't believe Mum and Dad... Stupid marriage... Stupid Ministry," he grumbled. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. His owl, Pigwedgeon, fluttered around his head before finally alighting on his shoulder. Ron sighed and stroked the owl's feathers.

"Yeah yeah, what have you got for me?" Ron asked. His owl hooted and held up a dead rat. Ron smiled a little.

"Okay, that _almost_ cheers me up," he admitted. Pig hooted, and pushed the rat towards Ron's face. Ron's smile vanished.

"I don't want to _eat_ it!" He said brusquely. Pig hooted again, and began tearing into the rodent's carcass. Ron now looked a bit grossed out.

"You don't have to eat on my shoulder!" He said again. Pig looked a bit exasperated. Well, for an owl. He fluttered off, and Ron sighed. He rubbed his face.

"Urrrgh..."

"Having fun?" Asked Hermione, stepping out next to him. Ron glared at her.

"No."

"Strange, most newlyweds are happy after the ceremony," Hermione observed with a little smile.

"There wasn't a ceremony!" Ron growled. "This isn't funny!"

"Yes it is," Hermione replied, laughing softly. Ron's ears colored red and he glared.

"How are you so calm about this?" Ron demanded. "I-I mean, I get married off and... And..." He coughed and looked aside. "I mean, we had that.. There were some things..."

Hermione sighed, and reached up to grasp Ron's shoulder. "Ron, you are a dear friend to me," she said. "Really. One of my best friends."

"One of?"

"We're including Harry, Ron, don't be offended," Hermione huffed. "You want me to choose between you?"

Ron nodded.

"Fair enough."

"But, the fact of the matter is that I don't really think of you that way," Hermione said. Ron blinked.

"Not even a little bit?"

Hermione flushed. "You really want me to answer that, Mr. Lovegood?"

Ron gaped. "H-Hey! It doesn't work that way, and I'm being serious here-!"

"Ron. Think for a moment," Hermione interrupted, raising a finger. "Would you really want me to nag you and boss you around for the rest of your life?"

Ron blinked a few times, and rubbed his chin. He looked intently at Hermione, then up at the Burrow. Then back to Hermione, and to the Burrow. Hermione scowled.

"Well?! Answer me already, Ron! Are you going to take forever and-?"

"Point made, point made!" Ron said, holding his hands up. Hermione smiled and nodded.

"Good. Now, I suggest you go upstairs and enjoy your _honeymoon_," she said, nearly breaking down into giggles at the last word. Ron rolled his eyes.

"You're hilarious," he drawled as he headed back into the Burrow.

* * *

He made it to the door to his room, rubbing his face. He opened the door and walked in, scanning things around him. He'd put Pig away, then go see Luna. They could talk this out and... And...

"Luna?" Ron managed in a high pitched voice. The blonde was sitting in his bed, reading a copy of the Quibbler upside-down. She looked at him with a smile as the blankets slipped down, revealing that she was wearing precisely... Nothing.

"Hello husband," Luna said cheerfully. "I was wondering when you would come to bed." Her smile widened just a hair as she sat up in the bed. "Would you like to consummate the relationship now? Or would you prefer to wait?"

"..." Ron made a kind of gurgling sound. Luna tilted her head and blinked.

"Is that a yes or no? ... How many syllables?"

* * *

_Non-idiot Ron Weasley, away!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_This next chapter was written by scriviner._

* * *

Snape was feeling... vexed. The numbers did not lie, loathe as he was to believe them.

He gave a snort of disgust and pushed the notebooks and ledgers away. The money he had squirreled away and invested would keep him comfortable for a while, but it was only ever meant to supplement his income from Hogwarts. Hogwarts which also took care of his meals and limited even his need for a wardrobe and much besides. Living in a fully-stocked castle/school was wonderful for the budget of a frugal wizard.

But now... there would be no new food brought in, unless Dumbledore decided to intervene. Laundry service would probably be suspended once the soap ran out. So... he was forced to dip into his own savings. Certainly he could live high on the hog for a year, perhaps more, but then the money would be gone and given the speed at which bureaucracies operated not even were the whole of the Wizarding world starving and out of bog rolls would they deign to admit that 'mistakes had been made'.

Therefore it was necessary to come up with some other survival strategy. Some other means to have money on hand to live on until everything sorted itself out. There was always selling Galleons to Muggle banks, but even that would not work long-term. After all, sooner or later someone would have to wonder where those coins were coming from. Duplicating spells on individual bills and a bit of Confundo might work for a while, but there was far too much chance of getting tripped up and caught. Especially if someone decided to hold a grudge and decide that passing magically created counterfeits might constitute an act of Muggle-baiting. Or perhaps misuse of muggle artifacts.

Something that could be trumped up and potentially cause trouble. He'd been... advised... to keep a low profile. So he would need some other means to continue to earn money for himself.

He rose to his feet and swept to one of the front windows, looking out upon the dirty street that had only changed for the worse with every passing year.

Therein lay the problem. What marketable skills he had were all of the most use in the Wizarding world. What use did one have for a trained magical duelist in the Muggle World? Or a Oclumentist? Or a Potions Master?

He sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the cool glass of the window for a moment. There were days when he regretted his choice to go to Hogwarts.

Some days more than others.

When he opened his eyes once more, he caught sight of a pair of older teenager's across the road. They staggered around, barely coherent and laughing uproariously at one another for no discernible reason.

He'd seen them before. Drugged up, drunk or some combination of both. Young hooligans with no future. He sneered.

But as he watched the useless layabouts stagger around, a thought rose unexpectedly to his mind.

A useful thought.

A profoundly useful thought.

Perhaps... it could work. After all, the preparation of such things were similar to potion-making. The art of manufacturing such things needed skill... and equipment. Both of which he had on hand in plenty.

A slow smile crept upon his features as he swept away from the windows towards the store-room. The main ingredients for what he needed were readily available anywhere. All he would need is a little work, a little patience, and he had every reason to believe that what he could manufacture would far exceed anything else the muggle world would have to offer.

His end products would, perforce, be non-magical to get around the absurd laws. But the manufacturing processes... well... he was free to use as much magic as he needed.

* * *

"I'm here, Godfather," The blonde-haired boy said respectfully.

"Indeed," Snape replied distantly, closing the book that he was perusing with a snap. He laid it atop the dozen or so other books that he had acquired in the past few days which now comprised what would be the basis of the work he would be performing. He was almost tempted to thank those wastes of human flesh that he'd seen on the street. They'd given him the seed of the idea. A simple thought. After all, under the various influences that they had been under, their appetites were clear and strong. Such a need was everywhere in the muggle world. A need for it that was indulged in not only by the lowest of the low, but he had little doubt that even the nobly bred with their noses in the air would turn away what he would offer to them.

Snape rose from his seat, towering over his godson, "And are you well, Draco?"

"Much better now that I am away from mother's matchmaking attempts, Godfather." Drago simpered politely. It would not do to upset Professor Snape. Professor Snape had been his salvation. His savior. The man had told his father he had need of an extra pair of hands for a project that would have... rich rewards and perhaps the possibility of refilling Malfoy Manor's larders for appropriate remuneration. Draco had hurriedly volunteered. Whatever it was that his Godfather had in mind, it would be better than the possibility of a romantic liason with Milicent Blustrode.

While the Malfoy family still reigned supreme in the embargo, they were needing to make more and more substantial payments. Marriage alliances were now being considered. Pansy had been suggested, and Draco couldn't find any problem with that... Why she had was beyond him.

Snape gave a single nod at the boy's response and beckoned him closer, "I must swear you to secrecy. On your oath, no one... not even your father may know of what I do here."

Draco swallowed nervously, meeting the older man's gaze. He was happy at the thought of being trusted with what was no doubt some dark and mysterious task. Perhaps it was even illegal... or simply distasteful. No matter. Freedom from Blustrode and the chance to participate in dark doings thrilled the boy. "Yes, sir. On my name as Malfoy, I will tell no one."

Snape gave another single, sharp nod and beckoned him deeper into what seemed to be potions lab set up in the back room of Professor Snape's home.

"To be honest, I do not absolutely require assistance at this stage in the process." Snape said dismissively, "But it would be simpler to already have you familiar with my methods ahead of time to simplify your training for when I do require you."

A rich, blend of heady scents flowed out of the open door, the smoke causing Draco's eyes to water and he coughed.

"Ah. Those earlier experiments have completed successfully. Excellent." Snape said, his voice almost sounding cheerful. He waved his wand, causing a wire-framed basket to rise up out of a cauldron, boiling liquid sluicing off the resultant materials. Another motion of his wand sent the contents of the basket floating over shallow tin pan to allow the glittering products to drip dry.

Draco blinked in surprise, "Those are..."

"Indeed."

"This is your secret project?" Draco was unable to resist a sneer as he declared, "That's muggle rubbish!"

Snape's expression darkened as he whirled upon the boy. His robe flaring dramatically just before he loomed over Draco. "You and I will not make rubbish. We will produce an alchemically perfect and stable product that performs as advertised. No adulterants. No vinegar. No chili powder."

Draco stared up fearfully up at the man, Professor Snape's eyes were fierce and glittering. "Yes, Godfather." He swallowed worriedly."But... but... still... this is your secret project?"

"Everyone will want it soon enough." Snape said, allowing a tiny sneer on his face. "The muggles cannot get enough of it. With this, we shall have the necessary resources for our every need."

"Bu-but... from Muggles?!" Draco demanded, scandalized.

Snape's eyebrow flickered irritably, "You would perhaps prefer the charms of Miss Blustrode?"

Draco swallowed, "Where do we begin, Godfather?"

"First... you must try what I have created. Then you will understand." Snape flicked his wand once more and a single glittering flake-like morsel floated tantalizingly before Draco.

The smell was incredible.

"A sample." Snape sneered as it dropped into Draco's waiting hand.

* * *

"You two," An arrogant aristocratic voice called out to the two men? Boys?

The two blinked blearily at the much shorter blonde boy staring at them.

Draco recoiled slightly at the brewery smell rolling off the two. They weren't much older than he was and obviously drunk. Who knew what other potions they had taken. There was a redness to their eyes and a strange shakiness as to them as they looked him over.

He hated this neighborhood. He never understood how his Godfather, a skilled Potions Master, even one who was living on the salary of a Hogwarts professor could stand to live in this... sty. Draco was certain Professor Snape could afford better. For goodness sake, those paupers the Weasley's could afford better than this neighborhood. This horrific, filthy, dingy neighborhood.

He was only visiting, but he knew from his father that Professor Snape kept coming back here, summer after summer. If it had been him, the tiny little house would have been sold or abandoned without a second glance years ago. Draco shuddered at the thought of actually calling this cesspool 'home'. He felt a small pang of sympathy for his Godfather. Unfortunately, that was quashed quickly by irritation at being forced by that same man to speak to the stupid muggles.

"Oi, you talkin' to us, 'alf-pint?" One boy, whose head had been inexpertly shaved bald stared incredulously down at the obviously younger Draco.

"L'il mincin' ponce 'ere's got buckles on his shiny l'il shoes an' tryin' to look down his nose at 'us when 'e ain't got the 'eiht for it." The second boy, who was much larger and had... were those earirngs in his nose? gave a sinister leer.

"Y'oughta cut 'im Jocko." The patchily shaven boy suggested, with a born sycophant's wheedle. "Learn 'im some proppa manners."

Jocko nodded agreeably and pulled a small... was that a knife or some sort? From his pants pocket and waved it menacingly at Draco.

It was an inch long and Jocko seemed to think this somehow made him threatening.

How droll, Draco thought to himself. He would have liked nothing better than to let his wand fall into his hand from his sleeve and jinx both of them to oblivion, but Professor Snape had decided Draco had needed a crash course in interacting with muggles. He sneered. "My Godfather says I am to speak to you two mud- mug- agh. Gentlemen," He snarled the word out, barely able to bring himself to say it. "And make you an offer."

"Oooh. Hark Poncy over here. All proppa. With a 'godfather' and an offa." Jocko laughed.

The badly shaven boy dutifully laughed along and added, "Is it an offa we can't refuse?"

Draco, completely unfamliar with the muggle movie reference continued to sneer. "Obviously you would be fools to refuse it." Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out what should have been an impossibly large plastic ziploc bag. He still had trouble believing the little self-sealing packages weren't magical in some way, but his Godfather had been quite clear on the matter.

"What the-" Jocko startled at the bag, brandishing his tiny knife higher.

The other boy gave a girlish scream and began cowering, "Oh god, don't shoot!"

Draco rolled his eyes and threw the bag at Jocko, who reflexively moved to catch it and in the process dropped his knife. "Whoa... wait... is this...?"

"Yes," Draco replied, his eyes growing distant as he rattled off the spiel Professor Snape had him memorize, "My Godfather's personal recipe. Home made. He's seen you gentlemen around before and wanted you to be the first to taste his work. He's considering selling these and wanted the opinions of two such," He choked down his disgust at the drivel he was spewing, "Discerning gentlemen as yourselves might be interested."

Jocko ripped the plastic bag open and thrust his hand into the bag of golden brown product. Even from where Draco stood, he could smell them and he had to fight to keep from visibly drooling. There was more back at Godfather's house and he was to be allowed a small bowl once he'd completed his mission.

"How do we know this isn't poisoned or some gobshite like that?" Jocko asked, suddenly suspicious that younger boy's largess.

Draco sighed, rolled his eyes and extended a hand out, "Then give it back if you don't want it."

"Back off or I will cut you!" Jocko hollered, brandishing the bad, obviously having forgotten that he'd dropped his knife.

The other boy still hadn't gotten up yet and was cowering behind Jocko.

Draco sighed and wondered what he had done to deserve this. He was growing rapidly of the opinion that his father really did have the right idea. Muggles were worthless. These two specimens were some of the first he'd truly had to spend any time with and he had to keep fighting down the urge to just curse them to their eyeballs.

Jocko reached into the bag and grabbed a small handful of the product of the Professor's work. Then hurriedly stuffed it into his mouth with a distinct, crisp crunching noise.

"Ohmigod." An awed Jocko murmured around a full mouth.

"Wha he give you?" The other boy started to get up, but got a barely missed kick to the head for his troubles from Jocko.

"Back off! This is mine!" He hurriedly jammed his hand into the bag once more and brought even more of the product to his mouth, his eyes rolling with ecstasy.

Draco shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out a second bag that he threw at the other boy's feet. "Here. Have some."

"Thanks, 'alf-pint. You ain't 'alf-bad." The shaven headed boy grinned at Draco, revealing badly rotten teeth.

"Oi! You said you could get more of this stuff?" Jocko asked, his bag already nearly empty, salty grease smeared all over his fingers and face.

"Oh, yes. Lots more." Draco said with a grin, "Be sure to tell your friends."

The shaven headed boy had sat down on the curb and was hurriedly scarfing the contents of his bag down, "This. Is. Awesome."

"So we can get more, right?" Jocko persisted.

"Certainly," Draco said as he turned to walk back to his Godfather's house across the street. "Meet me here tomorrow at noon."

"You're alright," Jocko said after some consideration. "For a poncy l'il git."

Draco sneered and fought down the rising urge to just cut loose with every dark spell in his repertoire, but he knew his Godfather was watching him and would take a dim view towards such action. So he did what he could instead. Let his mouth do the work.

"Remember," He called back over his shoulder, "Only the first taste is free."

Jocko blinked then stared at the now empty bag of some of the most incredible crisps he had ever tasted in his entire life and began wondering just who he could rob so he could have some more.

* * *

_And thus begins Capitalism!Draco. Long may he reign._


	4. Chapter 4

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Back to being written by me._

* * *

Naturally, there was a bit of a penance to be exacted for Petunia's change of heart. And that penance was the most creative thing she could come up with: Chores for Harry to do. Namely, weeding and pruning the garden up to specifications. Award winning specifications, actually.

Harry sighed and wiped his forehead of sweat. He heard a footstep nearby, but in the sun there should have been a shadow. He remained relaxed, calm... Before he swung around, thrusting his pruning shears out in the general direction of the sound.

"ACK!" A voice cried, and an invisible form fell onto the grass. Harry glared and stuck the points of the sheers menacingly at where he thought the throat of the invisible person was.

"Take it off!" Harry ordered.

"Glad to see Moody's training has paid off," muttered a familiar voice. The cloak came off, and Remus Lupin stood up, brushing his ragged robes free of grass. Harry lowered the shears.

"Professor?"

"You could call me Remus, you know," the werewolf said with a wry smile. Harry coughed.

"Ah, right, sorry... What are you doing here?"

"Observing you, incognito. Or at least, attempting to do so incognito," Remus admitted. "It was more an excuse to just visit, really. Especially given your... House guest."

"You're not going to make her go back home, are you?" Harry asked. Remus smiled, in surprise.

"Well... Probably not," Remus admitted. "After all, if she doesn't want to go back I'd say she's entitled to it. She's an adult witch, she's free to do what she wants. That said," and here Remus became quite serious indeed, "if she does fire off any spells it could lead certain forces to your home in an instant."

Harry nodded. "Well... She doesn't want to be found any more than I do," he said.

"Just be careful Harry," Remus said kindly, reaching out to grasp Harry's shoulder. "You're at a critical time in your life: A teenager."

Harry frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

The Dursley car pulled up in the driveway, and Harry and Remus turned to watch. Vernon got out first, wearing a deeply displeased expression. He glared death at Harry and Remus, but said nothing.

"Vernon darling! Get the packages!" Petunia called as she got out of the passenger side. She scowled at Harry. "Harry! Open the door for Pansy!"

"Ah, sure," Harry said, hopping the fence and walking up to the back seat door. He pulled it open, and a pair of familiar, athletic legs swung out. Harry looked up higher, his cheeks burning red again. The green sundress Pansy wore outlined her curves perfectly, and the cut was just low enough he got a tantalizing glimpse of the tops of her breasts. And worst of all, as her smile showed... She _knew_ he was looking.

"Like what you see, Potter?" She said in a low, sensual voice. Harry gaped like an idiot, as his blood rushed up... And down.

"I think you know, now," Remus muttered, safely under his invisibility cloak.

* * *

Dinner that night at the Dursley's was actually almost pleasant. Almost. Harry and Pansy sat on one side of the circular table, while Vernon and Dudley were on the far side. Petunia sat in between, for once actually acting like a semi-decent human being. The best Vernon could do was glare impotently across the table. Dudley though...

"My eyes are up here, Dudley," Pansy said in a teasing tone, but her narrowed eyes were cold.

"Dudley! Stop ogling Pansy, act like a gentleman!" Petunia barked. Dudley started, and shook his blubbery head rapidly.

"N-No! I wasn't-"

"You were," Harry said flatly. Vernon's face purpled

"Don't you accuse Dudley of wrong doing! It's that tar-"

"_Ahem,"_ Petunia cleared her throat in a menacing manner. Vernon coughed.

"It's _Pansy's_ fault for wearing that... That revealing number!" He sputtered.

"I chose that number," Petunia said flatly. "It's fine for a girl her age to dress up a bit, especially given what she had before."

"Ah..." Vernon coughed. Petunia scowled at him.

"Yes dear?" She prompted. Vernon sighed.

"Yes dear," he replied.

Harry leaned over his plate, and sniffed it significantly. He then pinched his hand. He finally pulled his glasses off and cleaned them, before once more looking around the table.

"Potter, what the hell are you doing?" Vernon grumbled.

"Just making sure this is reality," Harry said. He poked Pansy's bare shoulder. She looked over at him demurely, and fluttered her eyelashes.

"You could always pretend it's not~," she practically purred. Harry's face went bright red, as Petunia gasped.

"Pansy!"

"I was just teasing him, Aunt Petunia," Pansy said with an apologetic smile.

"Hmph! Teasing indeed," Vernon grumbled. "Do a lot of that at your school, do you?"

"Hardly," Harry spoke up. "She's usually just mean to me and sticking with some pretty boy."

Pansy snorted. "Men, such hopeless creatures no matter if they're magic or not," she said, shaking her head at Petunia. Petunia actually... _Giggled._

"Indeed, dear, indeed!" She replied.

Vernon, Dudley and Harry very slowly looked at one another, and nodded as one. Well, Vernon and Harry nodded. Dudley just went along with it because it let him look at Pansy's cleavage some more.

"We're going to watch TV," Vernon declared. "You can handle clean up, right Pet?"

"Of course dear, Pansy and I can do it together," Petunia said happily. Pansy nodded, smiling just as wide.

"Of course Aunt Petunia!"

"Well... Come along, boys," Vernon said in a strained voice, standing from the table and heading into the living room. Dudley waddled after, and Harry followed with a bizarre look over his shoulder at Pansy. The Slytherin girl just smiled demurely.

Once in the living room, the three men sat, all on different pieces of furniture. Vernon turned on the telly, and he flipped through the channels as a vein bulged in his neck. Harry stared at him in disbelief.

"Dad, why do we need to let _him_ watch with us?" Dudley protested.

"I'm kind of curious myself," Harry admitted. Vernon grumbled.

"_Unnaturalness_ and all that nonsense is one thing," he muttered, "but _women?"_ He shook his head. "Sometimes boy, you must let them think they run things. It makes things go much more smoothly." He turned to Harry and scowled. "Stop that smirking!"

"Sorry, not going to happen," Harry replied, now outright grinning.

"So what, is she your girlfriend or what?" Dudley asked. Harry shook his head, the surreal nature of the situation not enough to shut him up. It was _almost_ normal with these people he had to live with, for once.

"No. She's kind of the girlfriend of this jerk at school," Harry said. "Stuck up, thinks he's better than everyone else, uses loads of haircare products and is a real daddy's boy."

"Sounds like a complete prat," Dudley said_. _Harry bit down a laugh.

"You have no idea," he said.

"Or she's just his beard," Dudley suggested. Vernon's eyebrow twitched.

"Dudley!"

"What? It's what you say all the time about the boss's son at work!" Dudley whined. Harry immediately thought of Draco, flouncing about while shopping and giggling and snorted in laughter. Unfortunately, he then thought about his rows with Draco... And Ron...

"Oh God," he mumbled.

"Boy! If you're going to be sick, do it in the kitchen!" Vernon said brusquely.

"Don't do it there, I eat there!" Dudley whined.

* * *

Harry had snuck upstairs to his room to do a bit of reading while the Dursleys were distracted. He flipped through the spellbook, frowning thoughtfully at a few of the more obscure spells. He figured he'd want to try to come up with some new tricks if the Wizarding World was going to hell in a handbasket.

"Hmmm... Vibrating Hex?" He turned the textbook on it's side. "What good is that going to do...?"

The door opened, and he looked up expecting one of the Dursleys to come through and overreact at the spellbook. Instead, an agitated looking Pansy came in, and shut the door behind her. She then leaned against the door and sighed.

"Merlin's thumbs," she mumbled, "she is _exhausting."_

"Oh? Not getting along so well with 'Aunt Petunia'?" Harry asked with a bit of a smirk. "You're doing better than I ever did."

"Frankly, I think she just wanted a daughter to fuss over," Pansy huffed. She brushed off her dress and walked up to the bed. She sat on it, and looked up at the ceiling with a sigh. "I guess it's... All right," she said. "I mean, for her to fuss over me..." She looked over at Harry. "But why do they hate you so much?"

Harry sighed. "Well... Apparently she was jealous of my mum, her sister... And Vernon's just kind of a..."

"Dursley?" Pansy asked with a little smile. Harry nodded slowly.

"Mostly... We have something kind of in common now, so that's..." He shook his head. "_Weird."_

"Yeah," Pansy nodded. She frowned thoughtfully. "One thing I don't understand though is why you're actually here in the first place."

Harry laughed in a humorless way, and took a deep breath. "Basically... Dumbledore wanted me safe. And thanks to what gave me _this,"_ Harry pointed to his forehead, "my mother's love gives me protection. So as long as I'm in a house with a blood relative of my mother, it works and Voldemort can't get to me."

Pansy frowned. "You're actually telling me this?"

"Well, Voldemort already knows," Harry said, and Pansy again flinched at the name. She then scowled.

"What, and you don't think I'd... You thought I'd-"

"No! No, I didn't!" Harry said quickly, holding his hands up. "I mean, I... I thought about it. You being a... Well, spy, but..."

"But nothing Potter," Pansy hissed. "I can't believe this! You are such an _idiot!"_

"I know," Harry sighed. "I'm sorry I suspected-"

"What?! You're supposed to suspect it!" Pansy cried, throwing her hands up in disbelief. "Are you _kidding?!_ How the bloody hell have you _survived_ this long by being so stupid?! Does Granger do all your thinking for you?"

Harry blinked, and adjusted his glasses. "Wait... You're saying that you're _happy_ I suspected you were a spy for You-Know-Who?"

"Yes!" Pansy said earnestly. "Extremely!"

"You don't sound happy-"

"UGH!" Pansy groaned, throwing her hands up again. "What is _wrong_ with you?!"

"Me?! You're the one glad I don't trust you!" Harry exclaimed. Pansy glared back at him.

"Yes!"

"... I... It..." Harry decided to change the subject. "So... What all did you get on the..." He winced. "Shopping trip?" He finished lamely. Pansy snorted, but seemed mollified enough to let him off the hook.

"Nice enough clothing," she said. She frowned and tugged at the straps of her dress. "This is actually very nice. Lots of air flow, very soft... One thing troubles me though."

"What's that?" Harry asked. Pansy pulled the straps down, and her top off. Harry's eyes bulged as he got a look at Pansy's upper body in nothing but a satiny black bra.

"This _brassiere,"_ she said, "it's very comfortable but for the life of me, I can't figure out _why_ I'd need it." She frowned and tilted her head in some thought. "Then again, it is nice to be able to move quickly without bouncing. Honestly, I just use Stick Me charms at home but since that's not an option..." Pansy trailed off and stared at Harry. "Potter? Hello?"

"Huh?" Harry asked, unable to look away. Pansy smirked.

"You know, you _really_ are asking for me to do things like this," she said teasingly. "You're so _cute_ when your blood is going up and down."

Harry looked away, his cheeks bright red. "S-Stop it!" Harry hissed. "You're going to get me in trouble!"

"With who? The Dursleys?" Pansy asked, leaning forward a bit. Harry got up off the bed and walked to the door. He scowled at her, trying to keep his eyes on hers.

"No! I mean... I just..." He shook his head.

"They're called 'breasts', Potter," Pansy said slowly. "I thought Granger would have educated you on them by now."

"She's my best friend," Harry said quickly. Pansy laughed softly.

"Oh yes, I forgot, you _are_ dense," Pansy said, holding a hand up to her face. Harry scowled.

"You want to just stop torturing me?"

"What? You don't like it?" Pansy asked, tilting her head. She slowly stood up, and walked up to him. Her dress slid down her legs, revealing she was wearing matching panties. Harry's entire body burned red, and he backed up against the door as she closed the distance between them. She smiled wickedly.

"Or... You _do_ like it," she said, in a low sensual voice. Harry's jaw dropped, and he shook his head rapidly. He closed his eyes.

"J-Just get dressed already!" He said quickly.

"Why? Am I that unappealing to you?" Pansy asked with a hurt look. "You won't even look?"

Harry opened his eyes and stared. And stared. And stared.

"... H-Happy now?" He muttered. Pansy smiled, and pressed herself up against him. "Gah! P-Pansy!"

"Hmmm..." Pansy hummed. "Fighting yourself with all your might... This worked up just over little old me?" She chuckled throatily, and pulled away. She walked to the bed, and began to pull her nightgown on. "Good... You can leave now."

"... Huh?" Harry managed. Pansy sniffed and looked over her shoulder.

"You really want them to catch you in this room with me in just my knickers?" She asked plainly, but with a hint of a blush on her cheeks. Harry gulped, opened the door, and slid out quickly. As the door clicked shut behind her, Pansy shivered a bit.

"Well... I guess my stay here won't be _entirely_ without entertainment," she said with a wicked grin.

* * *

At the Burrow, Hermione was scribbling a note to send to her parents about what was going on and to send her some needed supplies. She examined her handiwork and mentally checked off her checklist.

"Let's see... Paper, pens, guidebook... Oh, cellphone!" She scribbled that down. "I'll have to hike out a bit to use it but that should make things a lot easier."

"Cell phone?" Asked Ginny, coming in through the backdoor. The redhead had a flush on her cheeks, and her hair up in tight pigtails. She was wearing a Weird Sisters T-shirt under a leather jacket. She beamed. "You mean, those funny little tablet things?"

"Ah, yes," Hermione said with a blink of her eyes. "Ginny, you look... Different?"

"Ah, well..." Ginny looked askance. "Dean got a scooter from his dad and uh, took me for a ride." She beamed. "A _long_ ride."

"Ginny!" Hermione gasped, scandalized. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Who are you, my _mum?"_ Ginny sniped. "Besides, Dean's doing just fine with all the Wizarding World nonsense! Him having a Muggle family and all."

"And... You didn't tell your family about this?" Hermione asked. Ginny flushed.

"Well, um... I-I didn't want to... That is..." She sighed and sat at the table. "Okay, I could have told him but I just... I wanted to be away from all this gloom and despair for a while, you know?"

Hermione nodded. "I guess I can understand that."

"And Dean would have helped, but I didn't want to... Ya know," Ginny shrugged awkwardly, "make it seem like I was just dating him for food and stuff."

"Isn't that kind of what you already do?" Hermione said dryly. Ginny flushed.

"Hermione!" She gasped. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny huffed.

"Oh fine, we can't _all_ be Miss Perfect Repression all the time," Ginny shot back. "I mean, my brother went off with Luna now, so where does that leave you?"

"Ginny, we're facing a kind of crisis here," Hermione said with a great deal of patience. "I'm not thinking about romance at the moment!"

"No, no I guess you wouldn't," Ginny said flatly. Hermione glared at Ginny. Ginny sighed, and rubbed her forehead.

"Sorry... Um... Look, I got his telephone number, we can call him and see about organizing the Muggleborn?" Ginny asked. Hermione nodded.

"That's a good idea, seeing how the Ministry has failed to alert any of us about _an economic crisis they caused."_

"Indeed," Ginny said with a nod and smile. Just then, a familiar white owl fluttered through the open window and landed on the table. "Oh! Hedwig!"

"Hello," Hermione said with a smile. "What have you got for us, girl?"

Hedwig held her talon out, and Hermione took the note. Hedwig then fluttered over and dug into some of the leftover chicken from that night's dinner. Hermione opened the letter and smiled.

"Oh, it's from Harry," she sighed.

"Hermione Granger's Back Up Plan," Ginny said in a sing-song voice. Hermione glared at her, and the redhead shrugged. "Just teasing! What's he say?"

"His summer is rubbish as usual, his relatives are better, and... And..." Her eyes widened. She folded the note up and stuck it into her jean pocket. "Ginny? I'm going," she said. Ginny blinked.

"Wha-Where?"

"Harry's."

Ginny frowned. "I was just kidding you about the back up plan thing but if you're really going to-"

"No no no! He needs my help!"

"Again, kind of the standard but from what? You-Know-Who? The Ministry?" Ginny pressed. Hermione finished packing her backpack, swung it over her shoulders, and gave Ginny a battle hardened stare.

"Worse. _A girl."_

"..." And Ginny, quite appropriately, was speechless.

* * *

_And here... We... Go..._


	5. Chapter 5

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_The next morning... Written with Scriviner. Go read his stuff, too!_

* * *

Harry wasn't entirely sure why Pansy got him up so early. But the fact she was eager about it gave him a bad feeling. Well, sort of a bad feeling. On one hand, a pretty witch wanted to spend the day with him and she was perfectly fine with teasing him.

On the other... It was Pansy Parkinson _teasing_ him.

"So, Muggle money is in the form of paper and coins," Pansy hummed. "I saw a few using these tiny pieces of flexible material? Petunia used it a few times, but I didn't want to seem out of place by asking-"

"Credit cards," Harry said with a nod. Pansy frowned.

"Credit card?"

"Er... Basically, it lets you pay for things electronically," Harry explained. "Like, ah... Apparating the money from the bank to the store for the purchase," Harry said, glad he hit on the perfect analogy. Pansy's eyes lit up and she grinned brightly.

"So... We could use your uncle's credit card?" She asked. "Where is it?"

Harry thought it over. On one hand, it would be stealing. On the other hand, it was Vernon.

"The counter, under the cookie tin," Harry said. Pansy beamed. She rose, obtained the credit cards, and practically skipped over to Harry. His bad feeling intensified as she led him out the front door into the morning sun. "And... What are we doing?"

"We're going out, Potter," Pansy said with a devious smirk. "Just like I said."

"You just seem unduly happy about it," Harry pointed out.

"Would you prefer I mope and moan about my lot in life?" Pansy asked.

"Not really," Harry admitted.

"Then we're going out _shopping,"_ Pansy said firmly, and the realization hit Harry of what that bad feeling _was._

"Shopping?" He asked in disbelief. He'd done that with Aunt Petunia and that just meant carrying all her purchases!

"Yep," Pansy said with a nod. "Just like yesterday!"

"Oh," Harry sighed in relief. She'd already gone shopping for herself. She wouldn't be getting more packages, right?

"Only this time," and Pansy's smile became truly devious, "we're shopping... For _you."_

And the bad feeling returned tenfold, as Harry immediately began looking for Hermione. Where was she?!

Alas, as much as he dragged his feet, he couldn't see her as he and Pansy turned the corner. Still, could be worse. At least Pansy was holding his arm and pressing up against him. That wasn't too bad...

* * *

On the other side of Privet drive...

"Ugh... Finally...!" Hermione gasped, emerging from the Knight Bus with shaking legs. She looked over her shoulder at the crew. "How on Earth did we end up in _Glasgow?!"_

"Navigation on this baby's a bit rusty," Ernie said. Hermione hummed.

"You know, if you gave me some time on it I could fix it-"

"No!" Stan cried. He cleared his throat. "I-I mean... Um..." He stared at Hermione. Hermione stared back. Stan shuddered, and he smacked the back of Ernie's seat. "GO GO GO!"

The Knight Bus vanished into thin air, and Hermione sighed. She looked around and groaned.

"Oh lovely, _Twenty-One_ Privet Drive," the Muggleborn witch scowled. "Are they just dyslexic or what? I..." She had been looking around, and she spotted a familiar head of black hair. She beamed. "There he is! There..." And she spotted his companion, a dark haired girl in a green dress. "He is...?"

_Oh, that must be Pansy,_ Hermione's mind realized. _Of course... _She pulled out her Omnoculars and zoomed in. _Why are they out together? Harry's message seemed urgent and... And..._

She saw Pansy cuddling up to Harry... And her grip tightened on her Omnoculars. She grit her teeth.

_Yes... I can see why he called me,_ she thought, seeing the look of distress on Harry's face (and approving of it heartily). _I can't let that bi... Er... Parkinson manhandle Harry like that! He's mine... My friend! Best friend! And this is all probably part of some evil plot by Voldemort!_

Yes, she could see it now. Pansy sent in to seduce the hopelessly kind and forgiving Harry, then delivering him to Voldemort... After wringing him dry of precious fluids and... And...!

"Right, focus," she muttered, taking off after the couple... The two, the _two!_

* * *

Ron woke up feeling good.

Very good.

He glanced down and realized that he hadn't managed to get into his pajamas after his night with Luna. He was trying very hard to remember what happened after the rather intense makeout session… and the cuddling. The cuddling had been very good.

And very naked.

And warm.

He'd fallen asleep, he realized.

He blushed and hoped she didn't mind that he'd fallen asleep when he did.

Had she been expecting him to do more?

He got to his feet and paced his bright orange room restlessly. Ron was not what anyone would call sensitive by any means. As insulted as he had been that folks may have thought of him as having the emotional range of a teaspoon, he had to admit, in his heart of hearts that maybe it wasn't too far off base.

But he wasn't stupid… not entirely. He just had a very narrow focus. Primarily, that was Quiddich and Chess. And food. Now his focus had expanded just a tiny bit more.

He was now thinking about how nice it would be if Luna did that with him again. Maybe he wasn't ready for more than that right at the moment, but keeping the option for that 'more' was kind of okay. Really okay. Especially when she did that thing with her fingers. And that other thing with her hair.

His brow furrowed as he forced himself to consider things from her side.

Was she disappointed that he'd fallen asleep? Was she expecting him to have done more? Was she going to just call the whole marriage thing a wash and go home? Technically the marriage hadn't been consummated. He heard from somewhere… probably Hermione… that things had to get consummated or it didn't count. Or was that saying 'I do'? Well, he hadn't done either, so the whole thing could get annulled.

An annulment would mean no scandal of a divorce, which would keep mum happy, and the record was wiped clean. Like it never happened. No one needed to know. Well, except for everyone who already knew.

So… yeah. If it turned out that she decided it was a bad idea, then the whole thing could just be swept under the rug and nobody would ever speak of it again.

Ever.

And they'd still help the Lovegoods, of course. They'd be right prats not to. Just… he wasn't ready to be married. Especially with no one asking his opinion first.

He shrugged and went to get dressed. Maybe things would make more sense when he had a hearty breakfast in him. Deep thoughts on an empty stomach did no one any good.

Ron yawned as he clumped down the stairs. Normally mum would be there with breakfast ready. Well, breakfast was mostly ready, but at his appointed spot on the table were a couple of changes.

First was a new chair next to his. It was the broken one that wobbled that his father normally kept in the shed outside. Someone had stuck a piece of wood under the short leg.

Sitting in the chair was Luna… for a brief, panicked moment Ron's mind superimposed her naked image over the girl, but once that had passed he realized she was actually dressed in a very demure bright blue blouse combined with a searingly yellow skirt, the whole outfit being set off by the white apron she had on.

His plate, which would normally be empty and waiting for him to load it with food was instead completely filled with his favorites. All steaming hot and ready to be eaten.

She smiled brightly at him and Ron's brain went into shut down once more. He tensed, waiting for her to pounce on him, but it didn't happen. Instead she got to her feet and beckoned him over, "I've got your plate readied for you, husband," She said.

Also at the table were the twins. Fred and George exchanged looks and there was something in their expressions that worried him. Something in their faces that set off all his little brotherly instincts that something was up. Something was being concocted. And that something would result in something distinctly unpleasant for him.

Ron stood frozen at the stairs. The expressions on his brother's faces worried him. He… didn't hate the idea of sitting next to Luna. Not at all. And there was all that food.

But… the odd expressions weren't limited to his brothers. He frowned as he looked at Luna again, this time forcing himself to look past just the pretty features, the blonde hair, that sweet, slender figure… her smile seemed odd. It wasn't like her usual serene smile. It had an unfamiliar brittle quality to it.

Ron knew he often missed the obvious. It tended to bite him in the arse more often than not. He glanced suspiciously at the table and then finally asked slowly, "Er… what?"

"What, he says?" Fred, or perhaps George said.

"What, indeed!" George, or Fred replied.

"Why are you still over there, ickle Ronnie-kins?" The question was asked in a saccharine tone.

"A capital question. He really should be here next to his blushing bride, see how she's taking such good care of him?"

"Indeed, dear brother, mine. Such loving care and tender ministrations that our mother..."

"The veriest paragon of the domestic arts," the other twins interjected.

"... could find no fault with her."

Molly bustled into view carrying another armload of food for the table, "You're a very lucky young man to have Luna here."

"Er…" Ron glanced from his mother then to Luna who was still smiling at him. Okay, he was no expert in Luna's expressions, only having started to pay attention to them last night, but he was definitely noticing something.

Ron tried to find the source of the odd disquiet, so asked, "Uh… where's Ginny?"

"Poor dear's not feeling to well, we're letting her have a bit of a lie in," Molly replied.

"Uh… what about Hermione?" He asked.

Luna's already odd expression grew a bit more tense. "She had to leave suddenly last night. Ginny said something about Harry being in trouble."

Ron blinked, "Harry's in trouble? Why are we waiting arou-"

"Girl trouble was what we were told it was," George, or possibly Fred said, holding up a hand to stop him.

"Although what help Hermione could give ickle Harry-kins is up in the air." Fred, or George said with an airy shrug.

"Unless she's planning on chasing any possible competition off."

"Pity, really. Poor girl's got the worst luck."

"I suppose this time she wants to make sure she stakes her claim early." He, whether it was Fred or George leered at that statement.

The two traded sage nods.

Luna laughed, just a tiny bit nervously, "Come on, husband. Breakfast will get cold if you don't eat it soon."

"Oh… uh… yeah. It looks really good." He smiled and met her eyes and he realized something.

This was it.

Luna smiled more and Ron forced himself to walk to his doom. She was being extra nice to him. She helped him to his seat and tucked a napkin into his collar.

She was being nice to him because she was going to call it off. He should have been elated to no longer be trapped in a marriage not of his own doing.

Except some other part of him was crushed that he'd managed to utterly fail at marriage. The thought that Harry wouldn't've screwed up rose up unbidden and was hurriedly squashed flat. Yeah. Harry was going to get Hermione and everything was going to go perfectly for them. He squashed that thought even flatter.

Ron's expression grew more despondent even as Luna's cheery smile grew more and more forced.

He found himself staring at his food, completely depressed as Luna desperately began cutting up some sausage and eggs and feeding him.

The twins exchanged meaningful glances that no doubt communicated a great deal, but all of it passed over Ron's head.

Ron opened his mouth, intending to ask Luna a question, but found it stuffed with eggs and sausage. He reflexively began chewing, the sadness in his expression smoothed out by the power of Molly Weasley's breakfast.

Well, having a pretty blonde shoveling food into his mouth almost as fast he opened it probably helped too.

On the one hand it was making trying to talk very awkward. On the other… he could get used to this.

Except he probably shouldn't, because he was certain this was her goodbye.

The twins traded more meaningful glances and the desperately brittle quality of Luna's smile finally gave way to a more sober expression.

The tension at the table had risen to unbearable levels.

It was at that point that Arthur Weasley breezed to the table and sat himself down, with a cheery, "Good morning," to the younger Weasleys (including the one by marriage) at the table.

Ron mumbled a good morning back, even as the twins cheerily greeted their father in stereo.

Arthur blinked, looking from Ron, then to Luna and nodded. "Ah, I see you found out."

Ron sighed deeply, slumping into his seat, "No one's told me, but it looks pretty obvious." He glanced at Luna who had turned away, clearly unable to face him.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," Luna said quietly.

He couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat. "Uh… I… um… I guess I should've expected…"

"No one meant for thing to end up like they did-" Luna started to say awkwardly, her eyes unable to meet his.

Molly glowered at them as she bustled back to the table, "What is this? It's not like it's that big of a deal."

Ron turned to stare at his mother, unable to believe what he'd heard.

Luna actually blushed and covered her face with her hands.

"Well, I admit, it does make for a somewhat awkward situation," Arthur cut in, "But it really does seem to be for the best. I thought it was working out quite well… or it seemed that way last night?"

Molly turned her gaze from Luna to Ron then her expression turned thunderous. "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY! YOU ARE NO LONGER A CHILD! NO MATTER THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF YOUR MARRIAGE, IT HAS HAPPENED AND YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TAKE THE FACT THAT IT WASN'T NECESSARY AGAINST YOUR WIFE! HOW DARE YOU!?"

Ron flinched back from his mother then blinked in confusion, "Wasn't… wait… what are you talking about?"

Arthur, who by then had already started in on his own breakfast replied, "Well, Hermione was intending to look over the law before she left, so I had a copy delivered. I took a look at it myself and imagine my surprise when it turned out that we were actually not covered by the restrictions."

"We… what?!" Ron screeched.

Luna stared at Ron in confusion.

The twins were clinging to one another, laughing uproariously.

"Buh- but- I thought you said… I mean…" Ron sputtered, looking from his father to his furious mother then to Luna. So was she leaving him or not?

"Well, as it turns out the new law doesn't actually apply to long-term Ministry officials in good standing." Arthur said, "Apparently one of the senior department heads was a bit more on the ball than our dear Minister was and took the opportunity to insert a clause exempting Ministry officials with over ten years experience from the law."

"And it wasn't the Minister who put that in?" Ron frowned.

Luna gave him a sad, little smile, "No, as it turns out he'd only been with the ministry for a total of nine and a half years in a senior capacity. Enough time to cover up the Ministry heliopaths, but not quite enough to let him keep buying food for himself."

"Not everyone was aware of the clause, but it would appear that we and at least a few others should be just fine." Arthur smiled expansively, "In fact we may even be in a position to do quite well financially once word gets around that some people have access to what they need."

"Even better for us," one of the twins chimed in.

"Yes, thanks to Hermione, we know the secrets of the Market."

"We can resell a lot more than anyone else."

The two grinned outrageously.

Ron's brow furrowed and he swung his gaze around to take in everyone, "Then… wait… what's…" He rounded on Luna, "Why were you looking so upset then?!"

Luna recoiled from his tone of voice, "I… only found out after I got up this morning," She said weakly. "I thought you were going to be mad because it would seem that we were married under false pretenses and you were going to ask to have a divorce."

"HE WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" Molly thundered, pinning the boy with her gaze.

"Molly, pet, you really should let them-"

She rounded on Arthur, "This is your fault, you know. But I am NOT going to have any of my children go through anything so shameful as-"

Luna seemed to tune out the impending argument and turned her intent gaze on Ron, "If you didn't know about it, then why did you look so upset when you came down?"

Ron swallowed nervously, "Well, I thought you were going to leave me because I didn't satisfy you in bed."

A moment after he said it, he realized exactly what it sounded like and was about to add something to clear up the misunderstanding, but his mother and father had fallen into a dead silence. The twins were staring at him.

And Luna… Luna's face went through a whole spectrum of emotions, ranging from confusion, amusement, and exasperation before settling into something more sultry. "Well, you know, if you were worried about that, surely you must realize that practice makes perfect."

The twins were roaring with laughter once more.

Molly finally got over her surprise and roared, pointing at him, "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU?! YOU WILL NOT SHAME THE WEASLEY FAMILY NAME! YOU MARCH RIGHT UP THERE WITH YOUR WIFE AND YOU ARE NOT TO COME BACK DOWN UNTIL YOU HAVE PROPERLY SATISFIED HER!"

Luna smiled serenely and leaned in to kiss Ron's cheek, "Well you heard mum, dear husband."

Ron allowed himself to be dragged away from the kitchen table, still not entirely certain about what had just happened.

* * *

Ron was, self admittedly, not very bright. Or sensitive. Or insightful, save for in a very limited selection of subjects. Quidditch, chess, and food all came to mind. But in this case, with a girl he admittedly cared a lot about, he found it in himself to focus long enough when they got into his room to clear his throat and look her in the eyes.

"Luna, I've got to admit something to you," Ron said.

"Yes, I know," Luna said. Ron's eyes bugged out.

"You do?!"

"Yes. It's my first time," Luna admitted, blushing demurely. "I mean, I may have a great deal of knowledge on the subject but I've never actually participated in it myself. Experience is the best teacher, and I'm afraid I have none." She looked at him in concern. "I really hope I can do a good job for you, husband, because I really-"

"Ah, that's not what I was going t admit," Ron said, holding a hand up. Luna blinked.

"Then you're more experienced in sexual matters?" She asked. "Was it with Hermione? She doesn't seem like it, given how high strung she is-"

"No no no! I'm not experienced in-in those things either!" Ron said, waving his hands. "Just, please, let me finish?"

Luna nodded. "Of course husband."

Ron sighed "The thing is, Luna, I care about you... A lot. I mean, blimey, you fought alongside us in the Department of Mysteries! You were awesome!" Ron gushed. "And you supported me in Quidditch, and you've been so nice, and uh... Um..." He looked down at her blouse with a severe blush. Luna smiled.

"You think I'm... Attractive?" She asked. Ron nodded. "Very?" She pressed.

"Oh yes," Ron said. She began to unbutton her blouse. Ron blinked rapidly, before he rested his hands over hers. "Ah, but I'm not finished talking."

"Oh, quite right," Luna said with a nod. "I'm sorry I was getting naked before you finished, dear. That was very rude of me."

Ron blinked rapidly again. "Er... No problem," he said.

"No problem with me being naked?" Luna asked with a smile, again reaching for her buttons. Ron sighed and took hold of her hands. He held them in his own and between them, and looked intently into her eyes.

"Let me finish please?" He asked. It wasn't something he normally did, but the thought of Luna being unhappy was... Very unhappy to him, too. Luna nodded, and looked right back up at him. "Okay... The thing is, er... It's... I mean... Bloody hell, this is hard to say," he sighed in exasperation. Luna smiled and stroked his hands.

"It's all right, Ronald," she said. "Can I help? Maybe if I ask you questions, it will allow you to get at the answer you seek?" She suggested. Ron smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, that could work!"

"All right then," Luna said. "Do you find me attractive?"

"Ah... Yes," Ron said with a frown. "Didn't I tell you that?"

"Yes, but girls like to hear it more than once, Ronald," Luna explained. Ron's eyes widened.

"Really? You mean, you need to tell girls how you feel more than once?"

"Oh yes, very much so," Luna confirmed. Ron grinned.

"Wow! Okay, didn't know that! Glad to hear it... Uh... Next question?"

"You seemed distressed at us being married," Luna observed. "Is this true?"

"I... It basically is, yeah," Ron said, looking a bit shamefaced. "I mean, it isn't because I don't find you attractive... But... Er..."

"Is it because of Whirling Dervishes in your pants?" Luna asked. Ron blinked rapidly.

"Er... No, I don't think so."

"Nargles?"

"No."

"Is it because you're not happy you were married without anyone consulting you?" Luna asked. Ron nodded rapidly. Honestly, talking with Luna was like trying to manage his broom in a storm. Though admittedly, he found he kind of liked it.

"Yes!" Ron said. "I mean, everybody's always doing stuff for me, making decisions for me, never giving me any choice in the matter and it's just so-!"

"Irritating?" Luna asked. Ron nodded.

"Exactly! Hermione nags me, Harry is fine but he's got this responsibility thing, my mum is... My mum, my brothers are all more talented than me and all and..."

Luna nodded. "I understand perfectly. You wanted to choose."

"Yes!" Ron said cheerfully. "But ya know, given the situation and all... I mean... It isn't that bad."

"Would you prefer I was Hermione?" Luna asked, with a hint of trepidation. "You can tell me if you'd like. I won't be offended."

"You don't sound like you wouldn't be offended," Ron said with rare insight. Luna sighed.

"I suppose I would be offended if you preferred her to me," she said. "Well, more sad than offended. Mainly because I don't know what I did wrong-"

"Nothing!" Ron stressed. "You didn't do anything wrong! And Hermione's, well..." He made a face. "The more that I think about it, the more she's like my _mum._ And that's just... _Weird."_

Luna nodded in understanding. "And you have no desire to have your mum live with you and also shag her-"

"No! No no no!" Ron shouted. "Hell bloody no!"

Luna smiled. "Good. Mum suggested that I emulate her to bring you to heel, but I am glad I do not have to. I would prefer to maintain my power in this relationship in my own way, rather than someone else's."

"Ah... What way is that?" Ron asked, blinking rapidly. Luna smiled, and pulled her hands back to her blouse. She undid it, very quickly, and pulled it open to reveal her breasts. Ron's jaw dropped and his face went red.

"Ronald dear, you want to satisfy me in bed, do you not?" Luna asked. Ron slowly nodded.

"Uh... Uh huh."

"And get this marriage off to a good start?" Luna further pressed. Ron nodded again.

"Uh huh."

"Then let us consummate our relationship, dear husband," Luna said.

"Uh huh," Ron replied, a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth.

"That's good," Luna said with a happy smile. "Also, I think we should consider baby names."

"Ah, baby names?" Ron asked quickly, his eyes suddenly on Luna's. The blonde girl smiled.

"Eyes on my boobs, Ronald."

"Huh? Oh... Sure... No problem..."

* * *

Back in Cokesworth, Draco Malfoy found himself with a somewhat new feeling: Pride in an accomplishment that lasted longer than five minutes. Oh sure, humiliating Weasley, Granger and Potter was fun, but it didn't quite have the same appeal as making his own way in the world. In being handed over loads of money by foolish Muggles.

"Prince Potato Crisps, get them right here," he smirked, thumbing through the pound notes as though he had done it all his life. He sat on a park bench, his crisp supply exhausted for the day. Birds sang in the air and Muggle children skipped along or played on their electronic toys. All was right with the world.

If only those loathsome automobiles weren't so loud. All that churning and bubbling and clanking along. Nothing like brooms, they were sleek and silent and... And...

He saw a masterpiece rolling down the street, and his eyes fixated on it. Smooth black contours. Lights on the front that looked like the narrowed eyes of a god. Silver and gold trim. And a body form that was... Majestic.

He read _Audi R8_ on the side of the vehicle, and watched it pass by in awe. Its mighty engine roared, and the craft took off down the street, frightening birds and Muggles alike as it raced off like a silver fish through a clear stream. Poetry was not one of his major passions, but to see that gorgeous form in action was... Was so marvelous mere words didn't seem to do it justice.

Draco watched it go, and he felt a bit of drool come to the corner of his mouth.

He looked to his Muggle money... And back where the car had gone.

"You!" He ordered a nearby Muggle, "where is the nearest automobile shop?"

He'd found his new goal in life. Acquisition of... _The Audi._

* * *

Ron slumped back into bed, panting as Luna curled up happily against his side. Now that blood flow and normal service had been restored to his brain and he felt well and truly clear headed for possibly the first time in his life. "Hold up... hold on. I just... I just realized what you just said earlier..."

"Mrphl?" Luna mumbled happily into his neck.

"You mean all the sexy shenanigans and the flashing of boobs and the kissing were all part of a cynical plot on your part to control me?!" He said incredulously.

"Mmmph... oh." She murmured affectionately, obviously too tired to use those tricks, "Technically that and the random 'wacky' declarations were mostly to keep you off-balanced and easier to push in my desired direction."

"How is that different from controlling me?!" He demanded.

"That was really just to soften you up. Keeping you happy is how I'm really going to make you do my bidding." She stretched up slightly, kissing his cheek and distractingly pressing her body against his. "And you are happy aren't you?"

"Well... yeah. Really happy." He pouted as she ran her fingers down his chest. "But I still feel ruthlessly manipulated."

"Would you prefer I was yelling at you and nagging at you all the time instead?" She said, blinking innocently at him, "Or we could be doing more of what we were just doing."

"... righteous indignation fading." Ron said weakly.

"Mmm... the feeling will pass faster with more happy-times, I think."

"You sure?" Ron asked, managing to grab onto his rapidly fading shreds of suspicion.

She moved her fingers back from where they were trailing on his chest to her own chest. "Cross my heart." She made a crossing motion, taking specific care to have her fingers trail suggestively in a way that framed her bosom.

He had to blink to tear his eyes away to look her in the eyes once more. "Urhh..."

"Well, I admit that is simply the hypothesis." She said grinning wickedly at him now, taking advantage of the fact that she was looking at her face once more, "But in order to prove a hypothesis we should probably test it vigorously."

She licked her lips.

"Vigorously..." He repeated distractedly.

"Very vigorously."


	6. Chapter 6

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_The next morning continued... Written with Scriviner. Go read his stuff, too!_

* * *

The local mall was someplace Harry was at least somewhat familiar with. He'd been here on a number of occasions to carry things for the Dursleys, as their personal packing mule. For a moment he found himself longing for those days, as this new adventure with Pansy was strange and unsettling.

"Now then," Pansy began, dragging him into a clothing store. "We must do something about your warddrobe."

"They're all hand me downs," Harry tried to explain, but Pansy scowled at him.

"Precisely!" She declared. "If I am to be seen in public with you, you must look good to reflect well on me."

"I thought you were trying to _not_ draw attention?" Harry asked. Pansy sniffed.

"Wizard attention of course, but _Muggle_ attention must be minded too." She turned to the proprietor of the shop, a lightly balding thin man with glasses. "Sir, my boyfriend needs new clothing."

"Oh?" He looked Harry up and down, and wrote down some figures. "Formal, casual, business casual-?"

"Let's just say all his clothes are like that, and need to be banished as soon as possible," Pansy said. The clerk grinned knowingly.

"Ah... New couple?"

"Actually, we're not-" Harry tried, but Pansy pinched his hand. "Erk!"

"He's just shy, poor dear," Pansy cooed. "Now, in! In you go!" He pushed Harry forward, and the clerk wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. He was led away to the changing rooms as the clerk babbled.

"Now, how do you feel about pinstripes, hm? Or a nice cravat? You look like you could pull it off..."

"Pansy!" Harry hissed. Pansy scoffed and shook her head.

"Really Potter, stop being such a priss," she huffed.

* * *

Hermione sprinted into the mall shortly after Pansy and Harry entered it. She'd gotten caught up thanks to an aggravating stop light which she had very nearly hexed. She looked around frantically, scanning each shop.

"Where, where...?" She muttered. Where would that hussy take her ma... Er, friend? She couldn't know much about the Muggle world as of yet, but surely she knew enough to complete her mission! Seducing Harry!

_Why seduction?_ Hermione asked herself. _I mean, that would make actual sense compared to the convoluted schemes Voldemort favors._

_Perhaps he's changed his tactics in light of the Embargo,_ she suggested to herself. _Besides, Harry, like all teenaged boys, is an idiot when it comes to a pretty girl._

_Or girls in general,_ she thought, a bit bitterly. She shook her head. _No time for that now! Focus! Where would they go...?_ She spotted a black haired boy in baggy clothing and a dark haired girl in a green dress enter a shop. She sprinted forward, hand on her pepper spray and taser in her backpack. She burst through the doors into the dimply lit shop and held her weapon out at the girl.

"All right Parkinson, whatever you've done to my friend ends now you slithering whore!" She snarled. She looked at the boy. "Harry! I came as soon as I could, are you-?"

"Huh?" The girl asked, turning and revealing Asian features that were definitely not Pansy's. The boy turned as well, revealing a broad chin and a thin mustache under brown eyes that were definitely not Harry's. The fact his skin was brown was another good tip off, something she'd missed in her fury.

The girl was holding a pink banana made of plastic. It began to vibrate in the girl's hands. Hermione's jaw slowly dropped as she looked around the shop.

Lingerie hung on racks, corsets and bodices from the walls, costumes of all kinds and bright and colorful... Toys... Whips... Chains... A woman in piercings manning the front desk in something tight and leathery...

The girl blinked, and then looked over at her boyfriend. He looked back, and smiled.

"You sprung a threesome roleplay on me?!" He gasped in delight. "You are the best girlfriend _ever!"_

_"_No, I'm waiting until your birthday to do that," the girl replied. She rubbed her chin and looked the frozen stiff Hermione up and down. "On the other hand, we could always do something else for your birthday, since she's right here-"

"I'm_terriblysorryexcuseme!"_ Hermione babbled, fleeing the shop in as dignified a manner as she could.

"You could at least take a flyer!" The cashier shouted after her.

* * *

A bit embarrassed, Hermione nevertheless told herself to pull it together. Her best friend, savior of her life, best... _Everything _really was counting on her!

Not to mention the idea of a Slytherin girl being with Harry... A girl being with Harry... A girl who wasn't her, in light of Ron and Luna's apparent happy nuptials and Ginny's...

Hermione forced all that out of her mind. Focus on the task at hand! She walked the mall, scanning the windows of the shops carefully. Happy couples sharing ice cream, laughing, children playing... All perfectly normal. She sighed a bit, and redoubled her efforts as she walked briskly. A large boy about her age, wearing a leather jacket, watched her walk by. He grinned, motioned to his mates, and walked up after her.

"Hey," he said. Hermione glanced at him briefly, and returned to her search.

"Hello," she said, in as polite a tone as she could manage.

"You look a little lost," he said, smiling with his most charming expression. "Could you use some help?"

"No, thank you," Hermione said, distractedly. She'd reached the atrium of the mall, and looked up and down the floors. She pulled out her Ominoculars and quickly scanned through the various shops. The blonde boy still stood there, frowning a bit. Still, he was still in the game.

"Sure? I mean, you might need some help," he added. He flexed his arm and grinned. "And I've got lots to offer in helping you find-"

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, spotting the glasses-wearing boy in the window of a shop. It was just his face in a mirror, but he looked distressed. The blonde boy blinked.

"Harry?" He asked in shock. "What, you were lookin' for your boyfriend?"

Hermione lowered the omnoculars from her eyes and looked at the young man. She flushed a bit. "Er... Well..."

_Wait, haven't I seen him... Harry's cousin! Dudley!_ She immediately realized. Well, he hadn't recognized her, and in the heat of the moment she allowed a wicked grin to come to her face.

"Yes. Yes he is," she said. Dudley gaped.

"He... He's got _two_ girlfriends?" He asked in disbelief. Hermione looked back at the shop and scowled. She spotted a pixie cut in a green dress.

"Not for _long_ he doesn't," she growled, striding off. For the first time in his life, Dudley felt some genuine sympathy for his cousin.

* * *

Pansy was sipping a drink as she sat in her chair in front of the dressing rooms, bouncing her foot up and down on her leg. While not quite as satisfying as a Butterbeer, this brown soda was actually quite pleasant. The fizzy aspect tickled her nose and the taste wasn't bad. She'd really have to look up this "Doctor Pepper" and see if they home delivered. Maybe they would use those... What did they call them... Trucks? She glanced down at her magazine with a frown. This 'soap opera' digest was somewhat interesting, but what on earth did any of this have to do with singing? Or soap for that matter...

She looked up into the mirror and saw a blur. She frowned and looked over her shoulder. Just Muggles out shopping, though one stopped to stare at her. Pansy gave him a superior looking smirk, and returned to her magazine. Perhaps she was just being a bit paranoid? She'd been on the run after all, and she'd been staying with Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Had-A-Target-On-His-Forehead. She may have just imagined it, though that blur had looked almost familiar... Something bushy...?

She stiffened as she felt two metal prongs press into her back, and her eyes darted to the mirror.

"... Ah... Hello Granger," she greeted Hermione carefully, who stood next to her with something pressed into her back. That wouldn't have been so bad if not for the fact the Granger girl was wearing an expression of doom. It was downright terrifying the way she glared, like her was forcing every ounce of hatred out through her eyes.

"Parkinson," Hermione hissed. "Don't move an inch."

"I wasn't planning on it," Pansy said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice and _almost_ succeeding. That look was just... She would shudder, but that might make whatever Granger had against her back go off. She knew a little something about Muggle weapons, and how deadly they could be.

Well she'd seen a lot of TV. Which seemed to amount to the same thing.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione snarled. Pansy gulped.

"He's here. We're just shopping," she said in as calm a manner as she could manage.

"Just shopping? Really?" Hermione asked, voice dripping in sarcasm. "A daughter of one of You-Know-Who's greatest supporters, forced on the run from her arranged marriage, _somehow_ ends up in Little Whinging and _somehow_ runs into her Dark Lord's greatest enemy, Harry Potter?" Hermione's glared intensified, and Pansy gulped again.

"Well... Um... When you say it like that, I suppose it might look a bit bad," Pansy admitted. "Honestly though, my family's mansion is in Kent! I used a random portkey to get here in Surrey! I've been wandering for weeks, I had no idea Potter was here!"

"Uh huh," Hermione said. "You ever hear of the Tower of London, Parkinson?"

"Um... Yes?" Pansy tried. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she smirked. This did nothing to lower the terror she was inspiring. In fact, it was just the opposite.

"Really? Then you know all about how Muggles can torture and torment and break even the strongest spirits without an _ounce_ of magic?" Hermione asked, almost sweetly. Pansy broke out in a cold sweat. As school, she could just scoff and sneer because Granger had the rules keeping her back, and she had teachers to protect her... Er... Enforce those rules.

Here, in the wilds of the Muggle world, who _knew_ what Granger might do? Especially when Potter was involved. She looked like she might pull a Bellatrix and just start going absolutely bloody _nuts._

"Would you like to find out more? I can make it very... _Very_ educational," Hermione hissed.

The door to the changing room opened, and the clerk came out with a bright grin.

"I think this is it! I-Oh, hello miss, how can I help you?" He asked, looking Hermione up and down. Hermione quickly smiled, trying to look like she wasn't threatening Pansy within an inch of her life.

"I'm Harry's friend! I just stopped in to see what he's getting!" Hermione said brightly. Pansy frantically nodded, an equally false smile on her face.

"Yes! Friend! Getting!" Pansy repeated. The tailor grinned, and stood aside with his arms up like a gameshow hostess.

"Allow me to present then, Mr. Potter!"

Harry emerged, looking a bit uncomfortable in a very fetching charcoal suit. The pinstripes and the cut accentuated his excellent figure, and the dark green tie highlighted his eyes. He blinked in shock at Hermione.

"Hermione!" He said with a grin. "You came!"

Pansy eyed Hermione's blushing face and suddenly shy look... And allowed herself a little smile.

"Not yet, but given how you look with the suit _on,"_ Pansy managed in a shaky purr. Hermione's face blossomed even brighter, and Harry's expression matched hers.

"Ah! No! No no, that's... You look nice Harry!" Hermione said quickly. "You all right?"

"Ah, yeah, just fine," Harry said. Hermione immediately hugged him tightly, and he returned it happily.

"... Hermione, what's that pressing up against me?" He asked. Hermione coughed.

"... I'm very happy to see you?" She stuttered. Harry stared. She pulled the offending item out of her pocket.

"... Is that a taser?"

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" She asked.

"Hm..." Pansy was now behind Harry, and put her hands on his shoulders. She smirked over them at Hermione. "I must say, those Hogwarts robes hide a great deal, don't they Granger?"

"Ah... Ahem, yes," Herimione said, glaring back at her. Harry gulped, as his best female friend and his... Runaway roommate glared and smirked back and forth at eachother, while pressing up against him on both sides. As pleasing as it was... He knew nothing good could come of it.

* * *

Dudley watched, slack jawed, from the window of the shop. In all his life, he'd never sympathized with Harry, certainly. Well, maybe once. But he now felt a new sensation in regards to his cousin: _Envy._

_"_... Why the bloody hell couldn't I go to that school?" He cursed.

* * *

Snape knew that Draco was certainly not an ideal worker by any means. Or any sort of worker. Lucius agreed to lending him the boy to assist mostly seemed to be built around Draco's attempts to escape from his mother's matchmaking attempts, but also a plot on Lucius' part to familiarize his heir with the muggle world. It wasn't as though Lucius was entirely unaware of the muggle world's attractions. Years past when they had still been in school, Snape had had occasion to show Lucius Muggle 'fast food' as well as the delights of modern 'pub grub'.

The party line of Pureblood superiority still held sway, of course, but only a fool ignored what was already right in front of them. It took a special kind of fool to be able to ignore Curry Vindaloo.

Lucius had realized that Draco had been coddled and far too ignorant and isolated. That would have been unacceptable in the next head of House Malfoy. So... the arrangement with Snape had been made.

Snape thought he was getting some free labor from a semi-competent potioneer who could handle the scut-work, leaving him free to create. That part had almost worked out.

These other new... demands... from his worker on the other hand, were most irksome.

He sighed and pulled his hand away from where it had been massaging the bridge of his nose. He steepled his hands and settled back into his chair once more, glaring at Draco. "Explain to me again what exactly it is that you want." He said coldly.

"I was told it was an Oh-Dee Oto-mobeeel." He replied, mispronouncing every word with great care and deliberation. Draco added haughtily, "I written to father and he said that if you approved of it, then I could procure one for myself."

"And how," Snape asked, "Pray tell, were you intending to "procure" one?" He made fingerquotes. "Last I checked, the allowance of Muggle currency that I am providing you for the work that you are doing should be just enough for regular meals and perhaps the occasional movie." He leaned in, gripping the table, his voice dropping to a cold hiss, "Certainly not enough for a car."

Draco smiled brightly, "Ah. On that note, I am covered. I was actually made aware that the paltry sum of muggle pounds you were giving me wouldn't be nearly enough..." The memory of having been laughed out of the Audi dealership was burned fresh in his mind, "My new acquaintances were kind enough to direct me in the necessary methods for acquiring one."

Snape blinked in surprise at this. "New... acquaintances...?"

"Jocko and Betty." Draco supplied helpfully.

"I remember 'Jocko'." Snape replied coolly, "But I don't recall you ever seeing any Muggle girls. Have you perhaps found a muggle girlfriend?"

"Er... no." Draco replied awkwardly, "Betty's short for 'Betforthe'. That's the name of Jocko's friend. The one with the shaven head?"

"The two... fellows... that live the next block over." Snape said slowly. "The two imbeciles who have intellectual capacities that contrast unfavorably when compared to a three week old tuna sandwich? Those two? Am I correct in understanding that you are... listening to advice from those two?"

"Well, I admit they make even Crabbe and Goyle sparkling and witty conversationalists by comparison." Draco paused as something else came to mind, "And they aren't bright enough use shoe laces so they have to use this Veal-Crow stuff on their feet to hold their shoes on... but their mental deficiencies aside, they ARE very familiar with the muggle world. They have ways and means."

"Those two earn money by mugging people on the street, not having the intelligence or wherewithal to manage to rob a convenience store." Snape growled, slumping back into his seat, "What 'ways and means' could they possibly have at their disposal that would lead to your acquiring an Audi?"

Draco quailed before his godfather's obvious displeasure and hurriedly replied, "They know where someone who has one lives and I know the Alohomora spell!" Draco squeaked.

Snape slumped forward and began massaging the bridge of his nose once more. "You're planning on stealing one. With magic."

"Well... yes?" Draco asked hopefully. "I mean it's just from a muggle. And Jocko and Betty said the owner's a some sort of lawyer, that just means he's asking to be robbed, doesn't it?"

"No." Snape growled. "No, it does not. This is precisely why your father sent you to me. You are currently working for me. In a business. On the muggle side. You getting caught stealing! Stealing from a MUGGLE no less..." Snape sputtered, "Do you have any idea what that will look like? Especially in this political climate? How that would reflect on the name of Malfoy?" His voice was a whipcrack, "How that would reflect on ME for having a godson who is little more than a petty THIEF?"

"But... it's not like we'd be caught... I mean it's-"

"Muggles have their own secret ways of tracking expensive cars, you buffoon."

"They what?"

"You know nothing of the secrets of Low-Jack and the Awn-Star."

"Secret... car finding magic?" Draco asked in confusion.

"Indeed. And you would be planning on driving this car around, wouldn't you?"

"Well, obvously!" Draco declared.

"Then the odds of being stopped by muggle authorities rises significantly. As you do not even know how to drive."

Draco scoffed, "But that'd just need a couple Obliviates and we're-"

"How are you planning on doing all of this magic while your wand still has the trace on it?" Snape suddenly cut in silkily.

"Oh." Draco deflated, "I... uh..."

"The only reason you're even able to do anything now is because you're in my home. Technically under my supervision."

"Uh..."

Snape slammed his palm flat on the table, "No. You will not steal this car. Certainly not using magic to do it." He pointed at Draco and snarled, "Your father is right to be disappointed in you."

"He... what? What do you-?"

Snape glared down at the boy, having risen to his feet sometime during the discussion. "Do you want this car?"

"Yes." Draco replied fiercely.

"How badly do you want this car?" Snape snarled down.

"More than anything in the world," Draco said with an awed whisper as he saw the car in his mind's eye once more.

"Then you are going to need to do something unimaginable in order to have it. Something you quite possibly never considered doing before in your life." Snape's voice had dropped to a cold whisper.

"Name it, Godfather." Draco whispered, "Anything."

Snape's own voice dropped when he finally spoke. "You're going to _earn_ it."

* * *

"Lucius, this is becoming intolerable," Voldemort hissed, tapping his spider-like fingers together as he brooded atop his throne. Lucius stood at attention, full of fear and respect for his master. Wormtail and Bellatrix were nearby... Playing cards. He honestly didn't know why that didn't surprise him. Maybe he was simply too frightened.

"I understand, my Lord, but you realize of course," and here Lucius worded things very carefully, "that with the embargo procuring food, supplies, and so on is proving... Difficult by normal channels."

"I appreciate this, Lucius, but you must be more _creative,"_ Voldemort stated flatly. "Do you realize how difficult it is to send a bunch of Death Eaters out to a McDonald's without them setting the entire place on fire?"

"I can appreciate that immensely, my Lord," Lucius sighed. "And I understand this is the reason you send me out."

"That and you don't like it," Voldemort said. Lucius swallowed his pride and slowly nodded.

"Yes Master, this is true."

Wormtail snickered. Lucius didn't spare him a glare. He had more self control than that.

"That said, there are other avenues to explore, are there not?" Voldemort asked. "Perhaps..." His red eyes narrowed. "Your son?"

Lucius blinked. "While Draco is involved in certain... Activities to benefit us-"

"No no no, not your whiny brat," Voldemort hissed. "Your _other_ son."

Lucius was very, very still. Bellatrix and Wormtail looked over from their card game, suddenly interested.

"Ah... He is a mere Squib, my Lord," Lucius said quickly. "We cast him out, gave him to Narcissa's Muggle loving sister-"

"And yet, he is a contact in the Muggle World is he not?" Voldemort asked smoothly. "Does he not have resources? Means at his disposal to aid us?"

"... Technically, yes," Lucius said. "But he would probably not be very... Forthcoming."

"Well, by all means, find out Lucius," Voldemort said. "Unless you really enjoy running errands for me."

Lucius frowned unhappily... And apparated out with a loud pop. Wormtail goggled at Voldemort.

"He has a Squib son?"

"Yes," Voldemort said smoothly. "I'm surprised you didn't know, Wormtail."

"I did," Bellatrix said happily. "Sent me baby pictures and everything! And so much pain and torment he's gone through, too!"

"Pain and torment?" Wormtail asked curiously. Bella giggled.

* * *

Lucius apparated into existence in a humid little town in Bolivia. He transfigured his robes into something suitable for the climate, and walked towards the sounds of gunfire in the nearby jungle. A bit of Disillusionment, and he was invisible to the Muggle eye.

He broke into a clearing of a giant Mayan temple, where the gunfire was loudest. Several mercenaries were engaging each other in battle, firing on one another with machine guns. Lucius frowned, scanning them. Where was he? He'd put tracking charms on him for a reason, after all, and-

"GERONIMOOOOO!" Bellowed an English voice, just as a dragon roared in fury. The mercenaries stopped firing and looked to the east in horror. Lucius looked too... And smirked a bit. A Bolivian Jadeback Dragon, a very rare breed, charged through the jungle while firing off blasts of flame in its rage. The mercenaries ran off, screaming in Spanish. Several were not particularly lucky and ended up set on fire, but they ran to the nearby river to jump in. The dragon came to a stop in front of Lucius, and a young man slid off the back with a bright grin.

"Haha! Ran away! Love it when they do that!" He laughed to himself. He was tall, taller than Lucius, and tanned. His blue eyes and nose were clearly from his mother, but his gray eyes? Those were Lucius's. The thin beard over his face was neatly trimmed, and his blonde hair was short and messy. He wore a rumpled gray pair of trousers, with a button up white shirt and a canvas jacket. And around his neck was a thin, black tie, that he adjusted. He patted the dragon behind one of it's large ears, and the beast panted.

"Good girl, very good girl, who's a good girl, huh? Who's a good girl?" The young man asked, scratching the dragon happily. Lucius cleared his throat... And a moment later had a gun pointed in his face.

"Come on, come on," the man scoffed. "Off with the cloak or spell or whatever. I've got a gun... Also a dragon. But the gun is here so I mentioned it first."

Lucius smirked a bit, and waved his wand. His charm faded, and the young man stared in shock.

"... Dad?" He muttered in disbelief.

"Hello Castor," Lucius said cordially. He sighed and looked around the temple, and at the dragon, which was now sunning itself on the limestone steps. "I see you're having one of your usual days?"

"... Kind of, yeah," Castor admitted. He rubbed the back of his head. "You're not gonna tell Mom Rommie about this, are you?"

"Have I told her about any of your other misadventures?" Lucius asked, smiling very slightly. Castor grinned back.

"Only a few... Come on! Let's drink!"

"Your dragon?" Lucius asked.

"She can drink whatever she wants, I'm not paying for it," Castor replied, patting his father on the shoulder. "C'mon!"

* * *

The bar was dingy and run down but Lucius had to admit, the local brew had quite the kick. He studied his son across the plain wooden table, a strange mix of pride and pity in his chest. Castor seemed to mirror the expression, as he sipped from his glass of hard liquor.

"Phew... That's the good stuff," Castor breathed, blowing a few gold sparks from his teeth. "Mayans made excellent Star Rum. Recipe's still made the same to this day."

"I shall have to bring some home," Lucius said with a nod, sipping some himself. It hit like a kick to his teeth, but he swallowed it down. His son grinned in approval.

"That's the spirit!"

"Castor," Lucius began, studying his glass. He looked up at his son, who proudly grinned back. He sighed heavily. "It has never been... Easy between us, I know."

"No, not really," Castor said. "You casting me out and all that."

"Officially, yes," Lucius admitted, sighing as he rubbed his cheek. "Unofficially... I have been there for you however I could."

Castor nodded. "Yes, you have... You being with the Dark Wanker though, that seems to take most of your time."

"He is a difficult master," Lucius said, almost agreeing, "but worth the investment."

"Is he?" Castor asked, shaking his head. He threw back the rest of his drink, and groaned happily. "Ohhh... God! Would he ever allow you to drink this stuff regularly? What with his stuffy Pureblood crap?"

"It isn't _crap,_ thank you," Lucius stated flatly. "Even as a Squib, you follow our teachings-"

"Some of them, yes," Castor said. "Though the abusing Muggleborn..." He shook his head. "I don't get it, Dad. I'm powerless. By your own rules, I should've been drowned the moment you realized I had no power."

Lucius sipped his drink, silent. He slowly nodded.

"Yes... That is what your grandfather wanted," Lucius said quietly. Castor frowned. He poured himself another glass of Star Rum, and swirled it around in his hand.

"That is the past though," Lucius said firmly. "And the Dark Lord realizes we cannot survive under current... Circumstances as we have. What matters is what someone can bring to the table, not merely their bloodline."

"As in, that's what you're practicing but not what you preach?" Castor guessed. Lucius smiled without humor.

"As you say..."

"Well then," Castor said, drinking down his glass. "Mmm... I suppose I could visit for a while... Help you out." He grinned. "And maybe meet my little brother. How is he, anyway?"

_A pathetic replacement for you,_ Lucius wanted to say. How was it that his eldest son, who went out into the world and adventured and triumphed and faced dragons and danger with a grin... Was a Squib? Whereas his true heir, Draco, who had magic aplenty... Was such an utter failure?

It was so profoundly unfair it made him want to burn down Merlin's tomb. Or at least defecate all over it.

"He... Is," Lucius said. Castor chuckled.

"Is that Malfoy speak for 'poof' or 'miserable failure'?"

"At this rate?" Lucius asked, drinking down another glass of Star Rum. His son just laughed.

* * *

_Yes, Castor Malfoy's part of this verse again. But he's not stealing the show this time. That's for another OC to do..._


	7. Chapter 7

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Harry Leferts and Scriviner...  
_

* * *

Alfred was just a pizza delivery guy, but he'd seen some pretty strange shite in his time. A bonafide, porn-level MILF greeting him at the door naked. A dog with two heads owned by a vet. So really, delivering some pizza to a haunted looking castle? Not too out of the ordinary... Though he was kind of hoping he had the stats of his character, Roland the Thunderer.

He nervously walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. He waited.

He checked his watch. He rang the doorbell again. He waited some more.

Finally, the large wooden door swung open and a man in a black robe emerged.

"You are... The delivery boy?" The man hissed, his eyes glowing red. Alfred blinked.

"Ah, yes sir," he said. "Ere ya go. Supreme, hold the anchovies," he said, handing it over. The man took it with his unusually long fingers. He rummaged in his robes, and pulled out several pound bills. He dropped it into Alfred's hands.

"This is adequate?" The man asked, again hissing. Alfred worried his lip... Then nodded.

"Ah... Yes sir. It's very generous, actually..." He felt bad about getting this much, actually. As the door began to shut, he took a breath.

"Ah, wait!"

The door paused, and the man opened it again with a scowl.

"What?" He hissed. Alfred felt very intimidated by this unusual man... But he gave him his best smile.

"I feel kind of bad about just taking such a generous tip, sir," he replied. "So uh..." Inspiration hit him. "Ah! Wait a sec!" He turned and ran to his car. He rummaged in the backseat, tossing aside trash and old pizza boxes, before he pulled out his prize. He ran back, and handed over the tightly bound book. "Here!"

The man blinked, and took the book. He frowned at it. It He opened it, and flipped through the pages quickly._ "_What... You're giving me this... Tome?"

"Yeah!" Alfred said happily. "I mean, I've got a few copies at home and you look like a fan... Ah! My character's a level twenty barbarian. You look more like a-"

"Wizard?" The man asked, almost amused. Alfred nodded.

"Yeah! You play it?"

The man just smiled. "In a... Manner of speaking. Do come in, and tell me more about this... _Dungeons and Dragons."_

"Er, well," Alfred frowned. "I do have a lot more deliveries to make..."

The man rolled his eyes, and produced another stack of pound bills.

"But they can probably wait," Alfred said cheerfully. "I'm Alfred, what's your name?"

"Ah... Tom," the man said. "Tom Riddle..."

* * *

Lucius was more than a bit concerned over his Master when he invited him to his castle for a late night briefing. He became concerned over his Master's mental health when he saw him sitting in the kitchen of his lair... With a Muggle pizza delivery boy, poring over charts, books and maps.

"Ah, Lucius! Come in!" Voldemort said, almost cheerfully. He looked to Alfred. "He's with me. My second in command."

"Oh, cool! How many of you are there?" Alfred asked cheerfully.

"Hundreds," Voldemort said, as Lucius stared at the odd scene.

"Master, what-?"

"This is Alfred, Lucius," Voldemort explained. "Our... Lore master."

"Oh, we're in character now?" Alfred asked cheerfully. "Okay! Um... So," he looked over some spellbooks. "I've never even heard of this RPG, but I've gotta say, it sounds awesome!"

"Yes," Voldemort said calmly, as Lucius sat next to him. "Now, you were speaking of a... Lich? A powerful wizard bonded to his corpse?"

"Yeah. Needs a phylactery to hold his soul in place, cause otherwise you just have a standard undead," Alfred explained.

"What about... Multiple phylactery?" Voldemort posed, as Lucius's eyes widened.

"Whoa... I dunno how that would work, though," Alfred said, musing and looking over some notebooks covered in sloppily handwritten script. "I mean your wizard's only got one soul, see? So how's it supposed to be able to get multiple souls... unless he's like... I dunno. Splitting his soul up into pieces, but that'd be kind of nuts."

"How so?" Voldemort asked. The microwave beeped behind him, and he reached back. He opened the device, and pulled out a plate of piping hot loaves. Lucius stared at them, as Alfred continued.

"It should be obvious, right? I mean a soul's a soul. If you've got it cut up into pieces, either that soul's crippled... or, well... depending on your house rules, it might eventually regenerate to its own full soul in which case you'd have each of those souls all fighting over who gets to be the real wizard. Which would be kind of cool now that I think about it," he said, as he began to scribble down notes. He reached out and popped a roll into his mouth.

"Master?" Lucius whispered. Voldemort leaned in close and whispered back:

"This Pizza delivery person seems to be some sort of genius. He understands complex magical concepts almost instinctively!"

"Perhaps he is a Squib, unable to use magic but able to understand it's mysteries through intuition!" Lucius suggested, also in a whisper.

"Perhaps we should consider... using... this fine young fellow," Voldemort suggested softly.

"But... my lord! He's a squib!" Lucius hissed back.

"I have decided that there is a place for talented non-magic users in the Death Eaters," Voldemort whispered. He popped one of the rolls into his mouth, and chewed it with a smile. "Besides, these... _Pizza rolls_ are _excellent."_

* * *

For a few moments, Lucius rubbed his chin as he watched the young man. "My Lord?" He waited until Voldemort nodded. "Is it just me, or does the boy look rather familiar for some reason..."

With a blink, Tom turned and looked at the young man himself as he muttered and wrote on a piece of paper. "Now that you mention it, Lucius, he does indeed look familiar... but why?"

It was then that Bellatrix walked in and snatched a pizza roll. Suddenly, she stopped and looked at the young man and he at her. "Do I know you...?"

Bellatrix just coughed and shook her head. "Me? No, of course not!" She then looked around for an escape. "Ah! My Lord, I hear that Wormtail has caught his hand in a rat trap again, I shall go and help him... which may take a while for various reasons..."

She then rushed out of the room and Lucius could only blink before he looked back at Alfred and noticed that there was an uncanny similarity to Bellatrix's father in his features. 'Didn't she have a squib child...? Wait, but she said that she had killed him...'

* * *

Draco ran his fingers through his hair and snarled in frustration.

His new acquaintances/minions, Jocko and Betty stood just a little behind him. He wouldn't outright admit the he missed Crabbe and Goyle, but there was something soothing about having two large fellows who were schooled in violence and barely able to string two thoughts together at his back. It made it easier for him to think when he didn't have to worry about people sneaking up on him. Unfortunately, his Godfather had forbidden him from bringing them into the house at Spinner's End, not even with the improvements he had made to the two.

Draco still did not have anywhere near enough money for what he wanted or needed. But he had an extensive wardrobe with him. He had a trunk, expanded to an immense size filled with proper clothing. Clothes of such finery as only the well-bred scion of a pureblood house could afford.

More clothes than he, strictly speaking, needed. But by the same token, these were not clothes he could just sell off in the muggle world. If only because the actual money he would get for them would have been terrible, but also because the multitude of charms on the clothes made them technically illegal to sell for muggle money.

He found that having the two imbeciles accompanying him was a balm for his soul, but he would be damned if he would allow them to carry on as they had been.

"You will get this through your thick skulls," Draco had snarled at them. The absurdity of a boy three years younger and almost a full head shorter than the two young men screaming abuse and invective at them wasn't lost on the two. But on the other hand, they were also seeing far more money helping the mincing little ponce out with his Godfather's crisps business than they'd ever seen before. To top it off, Poncy said there'd be even more where that came from. For that, they'd put up with a little bit of good natured abuse. Wasn't much worse than what they got at home.

"We got it, we got it," Jocko had said, holding both hands up in mock surrender. Betty nodded eagerly at his side.

"You work for me now. Your appearance is a reflection on me." He continued snarling, "If we are to continue our association, you will need to meet a certain standard of hygiene and personal grooming."

"Oi, we ain't got anything else to wear. What do you expect?"

"And there ain't always time to shower, y'know?" Betty said peevishly.

"Make time!" Draco had screeched. "Godfather has challenged me to get the Audi by earning it, then by Merlin's balls I will earn it even if I have to raise you two up to a level where you can be fit for polite company!"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of suits that could not have possibly fit in that pocket. Not that either of the two noticed.

He pointed sharply at the public bathroom for the park. "There will be sinks in there. Wash yourselves. The suits should fit you," He was reasonably sure the resizing charms on them had not yet given out, "We will probably simply have to burn your old clothes."

"But... I like my clothes," Betty said in a hurt tone.

Draco sighed and wondered if this was how Professor Snape felt when he had to deal with him for an extended period, "Fine. Keep them, but wear the suits."

By the time the two had come back out, looking considerably more presentable, Draco had a wide array of papers and parchment scattered on one of the park picnic tables. The whole weighed down by several small bags of "Prince's Potato Crisps".

Draco eyed them critically then nodded. "Better."

"'Ow'd you know whut size we were?" Jocko asked nervously, tugging at the neck of the neatly pressed black suit with it's Slytherin Green tie.

"I ain't nevah had an outfit that fit right before," Betty said with awe.

"Arrangements were made." Draco said absently.

Behind him, the two exchanged glances. They'd already gotten the impression that there was something just not right with the little Ponce. Something... weird and sinister. Especially that Godfather of his. Who moved like a ninja and was scary like... something really scary. Like a ninja.

Plus all this mysterious stuff Draco would say or do. All over crisps. The Jocko and Betty were quite certain that these guys were American mobsters pretending to be respectable Poncy British crisp makers. They had cunning disguises, but Jocko and Better were sure they'd been scouted as part of some sort of takeover of the area by foreign mobsters.

It was all very exciting for them.

Draco glowered down at the paperwork and he just couldn't get the numbers to add up in a manner pleasing to his eye. Keeping to the law and working with the resources he could see... it was impossible for him to get his Audi in under twenty years. In the Wizarding world, he was one of the richest boys ever. But that money could not be used to purchase muggle goods. Nor could he trade anything enchanted for muggle money. It was the loophole that non-magical items created magically could be sold perfectly legally that his Godfather had exploited, but the income from the two of them producing and selling the chips was just simply nowhere near enough to attain what he wanted.

Draco's brow wrinkled in unaccustomed thought. He had never been so stymied before. Usually when there was a problem, he could call upon his father and all barriers would cease to matter. Melted away by the awesome might of the Malfoy family wealth.

Except that wealth didn't apply. Couldn't be applied. So Draco was stuck... and forced to actually think.

Despite appearances, Draco had been listening whenever his father had lectured about estate management. It all boiled down to resources. If you knew what resources you had available, what you could bring to bear upon your problems, then it was a simple matter to make those problems disappear.

In the muggle world he had little resources, but plenty of things available to buy. The Wizarding world was the exact opposite. He had a great many resources, but not much that he could purchase that he would be of any use on the muggle side of the equation. By that same token, the muggle goods and materials that were desperately needed by his family on the Wizarding side had to be purchased, but his income from his Godfather's fledgling crisps business was a pittance.

He would need to sell a far larger volume of crisps in order to make the necessary money for his Audi. Well there had been considerable interest in the crisps after selling it out in the park and on the street. One man had even jokingly offered to buy a large amount of them, a truckful (whatever that was), but it was an order his Godfather had told him they could not fulfill. Certainly not in the timeframe requested.

They didn't have the muggle resources to get the necessary ingredients for that kind of volume. They didn't even have any material or manpower for that kind of volume, especially not with Wizarding manufacturing methods.

Draco frowned as that thought stuck in his head. He could certainly pull a bit of gold together to get the necessary manpower and facilities on the Wizarding side of the equation. Or at least he was certain his father or Godfather would know who to speak to. But even so, his correspondence with his fellow Slytherin students over the past week painted a bleak picture. He might have had a few Galleons on hand, but prices were rising steadily on the Wizarding world. The Galleon was losing its value as there was less and less to purchase. Offering it to workers to produce the material for their nascent crisp empire would result in higher and higher amounts needed to pay for the workers. He was certain the money was there... they were stinking rich after all... but it would be a terrible exchange rate. Galleons would be spent dearly to produce a few measly pounds.

It was a pity the wizarding workers wouldn't accept pounds. He sneered. That would have simplified things immensely, but-

He frowned. Well... why couldn't they?

No one in the Wizarding World would accept Muggle money, obviously. That was why.

He could pay people with it, but they couldn't buy anything with it. At least not if they didn't know how to navigate the Muggle world and barely anyone of any consequence knew how to do that. Just the mudbloods.

He frowned deeper. But... money wasn't the only thing that he could bring in from the muggle side that workers might accept, after all.

There. That was the angle he could use.

Draco smiled coldly as thoughts began to trickle faster.

He might have something after all.

Jocko and Betty merely looked on fearfully as their new boss began to cackle maniacally at his park bench.

Children steered well clear of him.

* * *

The gathering of the Dark Lord's followers was filled with tension and nervousness. Even Alfred, the Muggle lore master, sensed it. He could see nobody had touched the snack bar he'd helped set up with that Lucius guy. Really though, who could be unhappy in this situation? He'd even gotten an official robe! It felt like silk, or something even better!

At last, Voldemort appeared with a silent crack. Alfred clapped his hands. Nobody else did. Voldemort nodded, waiting for Alfred to stop, before he turned his cold red eyes on his followers.

"I have an announcement to make," he stated. "Alfred Strange will be joining us as a loremaster. As it seems he is not actually a mere Muggle, but more. He is in fact, the child of our very own Bellatrix and Rudolph Lestrange," he held his hand out to gesture to the two parents. They waved a bit awkwardly over at Alfred, and he waved back. Being adopted, he thought this was a bit hokey but it might be something Riddle had added to the campaign to make him feel welcome.

"So... Secret origins? Kind of cliche, but, I'm all right with it," Alfred said. Voldemort hissed.

"Be silent."

"Oh! Oh, right, ahem... My Lord," Alfred said, with far more respect and a deep bow. Voldemort nodded, satisfied, before turning back to the crowd.

"With this revelation... I must ask..." And here Voldemort scowled. "Why did you lie?"

"M-My Lord, you see, the rules specifically state to _dispose of_ the child," Bellatrix stuttered. "I um... We merely _disposed_ of him... With my sister and-"

"And then lied about killing him?" Voldemort asked flatly. Bellatrix again cringed, as her husband scowled at her. Frankly, the atmosphere of this LARP was just fantastic, and Alfred seized the chance to earn some extra points.

"My Lord," Alfred spoke up, and Voldemort shot a deadly look at him, "do not blame my mother for her compassion. For now am I worthy asset to your cause of darkness! What I lack in spellcasting ability," and here Alfred raised a hand dramatically, putting more force into his voice, "I shall make up for a hundred fold in wisdom and arcane knowledge! For how can you cast a spell without knowing the words? You need eyes to see, and minds to comprehend as well as wands and blades and monsters!" He turned to the shocked Death Eaters, and raised his hands up over his head with a feral grin.

"For with every asset we bring, we will soon bring about the Empire of Voldemort, and RULE THE WORLD!" He bellowed.

"Yeah!" One of the Death Eaters in the back shouted, thrusting this fist into the air. At everyone else's looks, he lowered his hand and cringed. Alfred looked back to Voldemort, who was silent, thoughtful...

Before smiling.

"Well said indeed, Lore Master," Voldemort pronounced. The assembled Death Eaters began clapping wildly, and Alfred grinned. "Now! There is one last item to attend to before the buffet." He looked around the assembled wizards and witches. "Does anyone else have Squib children they... 'disposed of'?"

Lucius hesitantly raised his hand. As did the Crabbes and Goyles. The Notts, Flints, and other followers followed suit. Voldemort looked around in astonishment.

"Did _anyone_ here _actually_ follow the ancient customs at all?" He demanded, though without his customary fury.

"I did, my Lord!" Wormtail announced, waving his hand about. Voldemort glared at him. Wormtail coughed, and looked around at the disbelieving expressions on everyone's faces. "Ah... But... But I did! So many Squibs did I bore, then cast... Into... Fire..." Wormtail sighed and looked down at his feet.

"Very well," Voldemort sighed. "I suppose compassion has it's place in our... Campaign," Voldemort said, eyeing Alfred, who was blissfully chowing down on a pizza in the back.


	8. Chapter 8

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

If Susan Bones were to be brutally honest with herself, she would have to admit that her current position was possibly in the top ten stupidest things she'd ever done.

Well, that was assuming that one counted counting all the times she'd tried to lie to Alastor Moody when he'd been babysitting her as a toddler, as a single instance. Otherwise, her current situation barely rated in the mid-two-hundreds.

Her Aunt Amelia had insisted that between the current financial crisis the Wizarding World was in, combined with Voldermort's reappearance, Susan had needed a bodyguard.

Which was not a terrible thing in and of itself. Her bodyguard was the young and interesting Auror Tonks. Who was a Metamorphmagus, which Susan found to be very interesting.

That was not the trouble. The trouble came from Miss Tonks having a tendency to hie off to somewhere in the middle of the day.

Oh, she was trying very hard to be subtle about it, but as anyone who had spent any amount of time in Alastor Moody's presence, and most certainly someone who had spent that time with him in her formative years, one got CONSTANT VIGILANCE hammered into one's head.

And that very CONSTANT VIGILANCE told Susan that Miss Auror Tonks was always eager to be away, no excuses please, from the Bones home by three in the afternoon. Technically that ended her shift and the far less interesting Auror Sharpe would take over the bodyguard schedule then, but three o'clock, on the dot and Miss Tonks would be away.

Most suspicious.

Tonks would always return the next morning, rather frazzled and looking as though she hadn't had enough sleep.

Susan suspected some sort of scandalous boyfriend.

Some… dark and dashing rogue, possibly seducing the naive and vulnerable young Auror. Susan had clapped her hands to her bosom in delight at the thought. That would be so exciting!

Aaaaand just possibly dangerous for Susan herself. After all, what if her paramour decided to use his relationship to compromise the security of the Bones home? What could they possibly do… well, other than hex the bastard to within an inch of his life and then give him an extra kick in the unmentionables for toying with a pure young girl's heart.

Yes. This was what Susan had decided. She had also decided that she would be proactive. She would need to follow Miss Auror Tonks and see for herself the sort of unsavory and possibly exciting young man her bodyguard was associating with.

She'd done her best to delay Tonks that day. Causing her to linger by the simple expedient of an extra bit of cake from the steadily depleting Bones' stock. Just enough to make it rude to rush away from tea.

Enough to force Tonks to hurry when 3:15 pm had hit. Enough to make her careless. Careless enough to miss a Disillusioned Susan Bones following her.

Sneaking aboard the Night Bus after Tonks had been exceptionally awkward. She'd had to wait til the other woman had gone far enough forward not to notice her, but not too long that the bus would take off and leave her. And trying to get on the bus without being seen and without paying would have been unthinkable.

So she had followed and disillusioned herself once more after she'd gotten a seat on one of the beds on the bus. She had no clue where they were, much less where they were going, but to Susan's surprise whereever it was, it was in the Muggle world.

Perhaps she shouldn't have been so shocked. After all, Tonks' father was Muggleborn, if Susan remembered correctly.

Nevertheless, when they finally reached their stop, Susan was all but stumbling over her own feet to follow into the completely unfamiliar Muggle neighborhood.

It was row upon row of anonymous homes. All of the same shape and color. Only the lawns and gardens distinguishing them from one another. So… Tonks' young swain must live in one of those houses. A man of some small substance if he could afford his own place… well, perhaps he rented, but that wouldn't be as interesting.

A quick glance up and down the street did call a single key point to Susan's attention. This neighborhood was filled with family homes. Perhaps it wasn't a romantic assignation after all, but rather a visit to her parents.

Susan grimaced. Oh, this would most certainly not do. She had been silly, she was certain. She sighed and would have turned, jogged down the street and flagged the bus down for herself out of Miss Auror Tonks' sight, had the most curious thing not occurred.

Tonks suddenly reached into a small purse she had strapped to her side, her hair cycling to its default pink as she did so… and pulled out a cloak.

Tonks put the cloak on… and vanished from sight.

Susan's eyes widened. She no longer had her parents, but she was fairly certain the protocols for visiting one's family usually did NOT involve an invisibility cloak. She followed, a bit closer now, desperately curious.

She could overhear Tonks muttering softly to herself, her voice growing progressively more annoyed and exasperated, "Dung. Dung. Dung!"

Susan covered her mouth. Such language. Well, Tonks was a grown woman. And she didn't know Susan was there while she was obviously cursing something. Susan allowed her imagination free reign once more and wondered… this was a neighborhood of family homes.

Could it be possible?

Perhaps Tonks' lover was… a married man! She could barely contain her gasp of surprise. So scandalous! So interesting!

She didn't think her disillusionment would last much longer, so she had to take other precautions to avoid being spotted and ducked into one of the nearby bushes.

The door opened then and Susan turned her full attention towards it, fully intent on catching sight of Tonks' secret lover. Wondering what sort of man could have caught the older girl's fancy.

Out stepped a whale of a man. Or perhaps a walrus, but calling him such would be an insult to all right-thinking walruses everywhere. The huge man stumped down the path towards the garbage can, a fierce scowl on his face as he eyed the half-full garbage bag in his hand distastefully.

Susan stared at the man in horror.

So... perhaps Tonks liked older men. Much older... disgustingly obese... older men. Her overactive imagination betrayed her then and presented her with an image of Tonks locked in a passionate embrace with the hugely proportioned man. Her imagination couldn't quite surmount Tonks obvious limitations and couldn't actually imagine her closing her arms around his... grossly huge and disgusting form… at least not without stretching her arms to inhuman noodle-like proportions.

She shuddered and had to fight down the urge to throw up.

By the time the man had reached the end of the lane, he was puffing and sweat was beading his deeply red face. He kicked the garbage can, tore the top off of it, then shoved the bag inside with a great deal of cursing. Most of it revolving around 'the boy'. And how the 'damned boy' should've been there to do his duty. Or that the 'boy' was clearly skiving off.

Susan almost gasped with relief. It wasn't this horrific whale of a walrus that was Tonks' paramour. Obviously that was this 'boy'. Whoever he was. There. The world continued to make sense.

She smiled and quietly kept looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the 'boy'. If this boy's family disliked him, then it might explain why Tonks was visiting him in secret. To keep him from getting into trouble. She suspected that perhaps Tonks' earlier spate of cursing might have been from realizing that the 'boy' wasn't home. At least, Susan had caught that much from the huge man's muttered imprecations.

Well, that was interesting. And so exciting.

She fought down the nervous giggles and wondered when the 'boy' would actually show. She was still wondering who he might be or what he would look like. She looked up and down the street and realized that someone was walking down the sidewalk.

The sun was a bit low in the sky now, low enough to dramatically back light what was obviously a well-dressed young man carrying a large number of packages.

Her eyes roamed up the boy… man's? Slender body. He wore a finely tailored suit that fit him perfectly, showing to best effect what was obviously a fit and trim figure underneath. The tie was knotted carelessly. Either someone who wasn't really familiar with them, or an intentional attempt to show a bit of roguish charm to perfectly set off the elegant suit.

She pressed a hand to her chest and stifled a gasp. Well… the man Tonks had her heart set on was certainly a fine figure of one. She allowed her gaze to roam upwards slowly, catching sight of the strong chin, the fine features… the glasses… those green soul-piercing eyes and that… lighting. Bolt. Scar.

She stared.

She blinked.

Then stared again.

That was not just any young man. That was Harry Potter.

She had found Harry Potter.

In the middle of a muggle neighborhood.

She pressed a fist to her mouth to prevent the squeal from escaping.

Tonks secret lover was none other than Harry Potter!

It was obvious!

No wonder she was being so cautious. So secretive. He was younger than she was, obviously that would elicit some comment.

He was her age, come to that.

Then there was the attitude of the Ministry towards him. Certainly it wouldn't be good for a woman working at the Ministry to be known to be consorting with Harry Potter, given how volatile the political climate was.

If he were dating… say… someone from school. Someone closer in age and interests, why… no one would even blink.

Then there would be the questions, given her social standing… after all, Auror Tonks was known to have been from a disowned branch of the Black family, while Harry… well… Harry was heir to the Potter family. The last Potter in fact. Surely someone would insist on a politically advantageous match for him.

Say someone from an equally small… politically well-matched family… like the Bones.

She pressed her fist harder against her mouth as she realized that she was actually contemplating laying her own claim on Harry. Well, it wasn't like she'd never seen him before. She had. In fact like many girls her age she had grown up on Harry Potter fairy tales and had wanted very much to meet him when they grew up.

But she had grown up. And she had outgrown childish crushes on story-book characters. If she was going to be interested in a boy, it would be on his own merits. Like the fact that he was well known to be a brilliant Quiddich player. Or the fact that he looked positively delicious in that suit. Or that he was known to be brave and heroic… almost like the stories. A very interesting young man.

She shook her head hurriedly and took a deep breath. No, no. That would simply NOT do. She would support Tonks. She was here truly to find out if her paramour was an appropriate sort.

Well, Harry Potter was most certainly appropriate.

For very many things…

She shook her head to clear those other traitorous thoughts from her head. He was Tonks boyfriend and she would most certainly not-

That thought was sharply cut off when she realized to her shock that she recognized the two girls who had been arguing behind Harry. She'd realized to her shame that she'd been so engrossed in her contemplation of his manly stride, those delicate, but calloused hands and the way the light sparkled against his eyes… that she hadn't even noticed the two.

Alastor would have been most displeased with her.

Aunt Amelia would have been equally vexed.

Wait… if Harry was Tonks' boyfriend, then why, all of a sudden had Pansy Parkinson of all people taken his arm and seemed to be QUITE familiar with the position. In fact, other than a slight and appropriate blush at the public display of affection, Harry didn't even appear to mind being seen with her hanging all over him.

Susan gaped. He was two-timing Tonks! But, no!

Not Harry! Most certainly not! He seemed like such an innocent. Not the kind of womanizing cad who would string along- ah! And now Hermione had stood in front of them and was arguing with Pansy, who Susan noted with a sniff of disdain was showing a shameful amount of cleavage.

Making a big deal of very little, Susan thought in a small, mean corner of her soul.

She had to admit, if there was anyone Susan would have expected to be hanging all over Harry it would have been Hermione. The girl had practically declared him and Ron Weasley her personal property since First Year. Well, then her opposition to Pansy's presence would have been understandable, but where did that actually put Tonks then? Susan wondered.

Susan nodded in understanding. It was clear. Tonks had a crush on Harry. Clearly, she hadn't made her feelings known yet, but it was enough that she seemed to be content to love him from afar. Meanwhile, Parkinson, who if her memory served her right had run away from home recently, was no doubt trying to sink her claws into Harry.

As they got closer, Susan finally got a clearer view of all three. While Parkinson and Granger continued to argue, hammer and tongs, the expression on Harry's face clearly showed that he wanted no part of it.

"So you charmed his relatives?" Granger said with an incredulous sniff.

Parkinson's reply was haughty, "I charmed his aunt easily enough."

"Charm. You." Granger's voice was flat with disbelief.

"You make it sound so vulgar." Parkinson shot back, rolling her eyes.

"What charm was it, specifically? Can't be Imperio, you're nowhere near good enough to do it. Confundus?" Granger's voice had turned peevish and nasty. Susan mentally gave her a point for that shot.

Parkinson growled back, "I can't use magic, Granger! And you're supposed to be the smart one! I mean, if I did don't you think the Ministry would have picked me up already?"

Granger gave a nastier smile and replied, "Oh yes. The Ministry. No reason to hide from them, is there?"

She gasped at another realization. Parkinson MUST be taking advantage of Harry to hide her from something. It wasn't as though she'd run away with him to marry-

Unless it was?!

Could she have tricked Harry into eloping with her to get her away from whatever situation her family had tried to land her in?

They were trying to marry her off to Draco Malfoy after all.

Obviously she must have been taking advantage of Harry!

Poor. sweet, innocent Harry.

About to be seduced and trapped into a loveless sham of a marriage with the conniving Parkinson!

Well, that was unacceptable! Her hand clenched into a fist. Granger was clearly trying to protect her own claim on him, and she seemed to be holding her own well enough, but it was obvious the vitriol she was using was doing little to endear her to Harry.

Granger made another scoffing noise, "Charmed indeed. Well, if you were wearing that top, I suppose I can guess how you charmed his uncle and cousin."

Parkinson's response was a self-satisfied smirk as she pressed against Harry's arm.

Hermione gaped in disbelief at the motion, but did not do anything of her own.

Susan scored Parkinson a point of her own. Clearly Hermione was much too much of a lady to compete with her in that manner. And possibly because Granger's top was much more conservative.

Well… innocent or not, Harry Potter was obviously still a boy.

She was certainly not going to lose in that field, she thought proudly, puffing her chest out.

Then she caught herself and mentally reordered that sentence: Tonks. Tonks was a grown woman. She wouldn't lose to these little girls.

Where was Tonks, anyway? She certainly wasn't going to win in this competition for poor, innocent Harry's attentions if she kept herself hidden.

The irony of that thought did not occur to her at that point in time.

As she considered Tonks' whereabouts another person caught up to the party of three. Harry had gotten his arm free as the sniping between Parkinson and Granger grew to a fever pitch.

Susan wondered if the two girls were going to start hexing one another on the street, but the new arrival distracted everyone.

It was a heavy-set boy in a leather coat. He was red-faced and breathing hard, obviously having chased after them for some distance.

He thumped to Harry's side, puffing like the Hogwarts express and grabbed hold of Harry by the shoulder… not in any mean or intimate sort of way, but more in a 'desperate to remain upright' sort of way. Harry was tilting under the weight.

Susan recognized the resemblance between the boy and the whale of a man from earlier. No doubt another relative.

"Alright, Fr- Potter. Alright." He puffed.

"Alright, what?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at the larger boy.

"Teach me." He panted, red-faced.

"I have no idea what you're on about." Harry said trying to pull away from the boy.

The boy grabbed Harry by the elegantly pressed lapels of his suit and pulled him up until they were eye level.

"I need you to teach me how to get two girlfriends!" The boy declared loudly.

Harry stared at him and blushed bright red. Granger stared and was also beginning to turn colors. Parkinson started laughing. Loudly.

Susan stared.

Oh.

She hadn't expected that.

That certainly was interesting.

* * *

Harry Potter was now fully convinced that he wasn't the Chosen One or some great hero of fate and destiny. He was fully convinced he was, instead, Fate's Bitch. Really, it would fit with everything that happened in his life. This conversation, for instance.

"BOY! YOU WILL EXPLAIN THIS RIGHT NOW! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY BRINGING AROUND MORE FREAKS, MORE TARTS?!"

"TART?! Who the hell are you calling a tart, you overblown sack of lard?!"

Well, not so much conversation as shouting match. And he had Dudley to thank for that, as he'd thrown out Harry's cleverly conceived lie that Hermione was just visiting for no real reason by announcing the moment they'd entered Number Four Privet Drive "HARRY HAS TWO GIRLFRIENDS!"

And now his uncle and his best friend were screaming at each other furiously, as he stood in the middle with his hand on his forehead. Dudley stood off to the side, gawping in amazement. Pansy, of course, was just standing back a bit from him and watching all this in ill concealed amusement.

"YOU WILL NOT TALK TO ME IN THAT TONE, YOU LITTLE-!" Vernon bellowed.

"I'LL TALK TO YOU HOWEVER I WANT YOU ABUSIVE MONSTER!" Hermione screamed back, her eyes twitching and her cheeks flushed in anger. She'd been on edge ever since she got here, acting more like Ron than her usual cool self. Harry couldn't really understand why... Nor why she was kind of attractive this way, fury unleashed.

"I'LL CALL THE POLICE RIGHT NOW-!"

"GO RIGHT AHEAD! I'M SURE YOU'LL LOOK PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE CLAIMING A TEENAGED GIRL THREATENED YOU!" Hermione yelled back.

"I LOOK PLENTY RESPECTABLE YOU LITTLE HARPY!"

"UNLESS THERE ARE SERIAL KILLERS NEXT DOOR, I DON'T THINK SO!" Hermione raged back.

Vernon sneered and reached out to grab for Hermione. More than likely he was going to take her wrist or shoulder, but in that moment all Harry saw was someone he really hated reaching out with ill intent at someone he happened to care a lot about.

The clock on the nearby wall exploded, and Vernon instinctively held his arms up to protect his face as he was showered with bits of wood and glass. He looked over at it in horror, and slowly back to Harry. He was breathing hard, as everyone's eyes were locked onto him.

"Sorry about that," Harry said softly. "Accidental magic. When I'm feeling... Threatened, or someone I care about is in trouble, I can lose control." His eyes narrowed at Vernon. "You of course remember Marge?"

Vernon very slowly nodded. He coughed, and brushed his vest clear. "As... As I recall, you use too much, you'll just end up thrown out of that school of yours," he said with false bravado.

"Yes," Harry said. "But I'd have a few minutes before anyone got here." He looked at Hermione and Pansy. "And I don't think these two would stop me."

"Actually, Uncle Vernon, we would," Pansy said firmly. Hermione and Harry gaped at her. She moved forward and wrapped her hands around Vernon's beefy mitt, patting his palm comfortingly.

"We're all under a lot of stress right now, but shouting and blowing things up isn't going to help any of us, is it?" She asked slowly, looking intently into Vernon's eyes. The older man's mustache bristled... And slowly, he nodded and calmed down.

"No... No it isn't..."

"Good," Pansy said with a smile. "Now, Harry does not have two girlfriends."

"Harry does not have two girlfriends," Vernon repeated in a dull voice. Hermione's eyebrows almost hit her hairline. Harry imagined his weren't far behind.

"Hermione is a friend of his from school in a similar situation as I am," Pansy continued.

"Hermione is a friend of his from school in a similar situation as you are," Vernon recited, his eyes now a bit glassy.

"It would make Aunt Petunia very happy if we kept the peace, and you were to accept her too," Pansy said, her voice low and even. Vernon again dutifully repeated everything she said.

"And you are just fine with Harry using your credit card to buy some clothes," she said. Vernon's eyebrow twitched.

"I... Am fine... W-With... The boy... I...!"

"Ah," Hermione interjected, quickly pulling out a few Galleons. She placed them in Vernon's hand, and the huge Muggle stared at it. "Real gold, easily covers the cost of any purchases and my rent!" She said quickly. "No magic in them, you can just exchange them at the bank!"

Vernon's eyes shone with greed, his rage dying down. He nodded in satisfaction.

"Right... Well... No funny business," he said, glaring at a shocked Harry. "Nor you with them, Dudley! I'll not have you seduced by some freakish tart!"

"Don't call us tarts anymore," Pansy said, again staring directly into his eyes, "it will make Petunia angry."

Vernon's face slackened. "Don't call you tarts anymore. It will make Petunia angry," he mumbled.

"Go on, watch telly and count your gold," Pansy said. Vernon nodded, and slowly turned to walk towards the living room. Pansy sighed, and wiped her hands off on her dress. Hermione glared at her.

"Just charm, hm?" Hermione asked flatly. Pansy coughed, and looked down at the floor.

"Well..." She rubbed an earring Harry had noticed before, but hadn't commented on, "there may have been... A little enhancement..."

"Y-You mind controlled him? And my mum?!" Dudley gasped. Pansy rapidly shook her head, holding her hands up. Hermione glared and reached for her taser.

"No no! I mean, not much! It's a mild compulsion charm on my earring, it only affects the weak minded," she said. "As in, weak minded muggles," she specified, looking at Harry but not quite meeting his eyes. "It... It doesn't work on wizards. It just enhances my charm. I can't actually make them do anything they don't really want to do. Just... Nudge them a little."

"Uh huh," Hermione said dryly, taser out. "And you were going to tell us this, when, hm? When you'd talked Harry into going to You-Know-Who's-?!"

"Hermione, hang on," Harry said, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. Hermione looked over at him, and he shook his head. "If she was really using mind control on me, don't you think you'd notice?"

Hermione's eyes flashed. "She might be subtly trying to influence you!"

"I can throw off the Imperius, you know," Harry said. He glanced at Pansy. "And she knows it. She was in that class when I showed off that I could."

Pansy nodded. "I didn't bother using it on Harry. Why would I?" She allowed herself a little smirk, and wrapped her arms under her breasts. It was an action that made Dudley choke a little. "After all, I do have these."

Harry gripped Hermione's shoulder far more tightly, as he was afraid if he didn't his best friend would lunge for his roommate and do something horrible. "Hermione! Calm down!"

"How do we know she isn't just here as part of a plot?" Hermione growled.

"If she is, then we'll figure it out, right?" Harry said with a smile. "I mean, that's why you're here, right?"

"I..." Hermione looked over at Pansy, eyes narrowed. "Yes. Precisely," she said with a nod. "Besides, not like Ron needs my help right now."

"Well, probably not," Harry said, blinking. "He okay?"

"He's married," Hermione said flatly. Harry nodded.

"Oh, okay... Wait what?!"

"Seriously?!" Pansy gasped, letting out a laugh. "Oh Merlin's man tits! For a chance to see the poor girl!"

Dudley looked back and forth between his cousin and the two girls, increasingly confused. "Er..."

"Don't! Don't even," Harry said, sighing as he rubbed his forehead. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

"If it got you two girlfriends, I kind of do-"

"I'm not his girlfriend!" Hermione cried, face bright red. Pansy smirked and leaned against Harry's side.

"Mm? Then he's available then~?"

"NO HE IS NOT!"

* * *

Hannah was giving Susan the gimlet eye again. It was not the first time and Hannah had a feeling that it would not be the last.

"I really wish you wouldn't keep looking at me like that." Susan said quietly, shrinking back from Hannah.

"Like what?" Hannah asked mildly, her expression and the annoyed, penetrating glare she directed at her exasperating friend was unrelenting.

"Like I'm insane or something." Susan pouted, crossing her arms under her impressive bosom.

Hannah rolled her eyes, finally breaking off the glare and sighed. "That is because you ARE insane, Susan! You are completely daft."

"I am not!" Susan protested hotly. "I saw it with my own eyes. My bodyguard is in love with Harry Potter."

"This is almost as insane as that time with Luna Lovegood!" Hannah exclaimed.

Susan sniffed and primly replied, "We were able to find evidence that she was being bullied to Professor Flitwick and get it stopped-"

"But that's not why we were there!" Hannah grabbed her by her shoulders and shouted in her face, "You had us sneak into Ravenclaw to look for evidence that Lovegood was in love with Ron Weasley!"

Susan shrank away from her best friend's frustrated declaration, "The clues all seemed to point to-"

Hannah made a disgruntled noise and let her go. She dropped her head and sighed once more. "Look, I'm not saying you're necessarily wrong about this, but you really need to curb this Gryffindorish tendency of yours to just… jump into your 'interesting' things."

Susan gave a shocked gasp and stamped her foot for emphasis, "I am not Gryffindorish! You take that back!"

Hannah smiled weakly and put a hand on Susan's shoulder, "I'm sorry. You aren't Gryffindorish. That was uncalled for."

Susan crossed her arms and gave an offended sniff, "I should think so."

"Nevertheless, I really think this idea of yours to help Auror Tonks to seduce Harry Potter away from Pansy Parkinson, of all people," Hannah's tone made it patently clear that she did not believe any of it, "Is completely insane. Why would she even be there? I mean, maybe you weren't close enough and you just mistook a couple of muggles for Harry and some other people at school…"

"She was under an invisibility cloak stalking them!" Susan declared hotly.

Hannah said in a placating tone, "Of course you did."

"Well, she's going to be here any moment. I fully intend to confront her,"

Hannah covered her face with both hands, "Susan… Susan, no… no…"

"Yes. I shall. You will see, I was not imagining any of what I told you." Susan continued, lifting her chin and giving Hannah what she liked to think of as her steely gaze. She modeled it on her Aunt Amelia's. Hannah didn't have the heart to tell the redhead that the look merely made her look like she had a bad squint.

It was at that point that Tonks breezed cheerfully into the room. Her hair was a royal blue so dark as to almost seem black, but there were brighter icy blue highlights shot through it. "Wotcher, Susan. Wotcher Hannah. 'Ow's my favorite niece of my boss and her best friend?"

Hannah gave Tonks a long suffering look and said bleakly, "Save yourself. It's too late for me."

"What's all this, then?" Tonks asked, smirking in obvious amusement at Hannah's exaggerated actions.

Hannah gestured to Susan who had finally stopped giving her the squinty gaze and turned her attentions towards Tonks. "She's gotten another of her 'interesting' ideas lodged in her head again." Hannah reported. "Only thing anyone can do at this point's wait it out til she comes back to a reasonable approximation of sanity."

Tonks grinned indulgently and reached out to playfully ruffle her charge's hair, "Oh, and what is this fresh new interest of yours?" She asked lightly.

Susan gave a small ineffectual glare that bounced right off the older woman's cheer. She then said, "I know."

Tonks raised a single bright crimson eyebrow, "Know what, Sue?"

"About you." Susan said, pausing dramatically, perhaps just a little too long.

"Er… yes?" Tonks asked in confusion while Hannah buried her face in her hands once more.

"And Harry Potter!" Susan finished.

Tonks flinched visibly. Enough that even Hannah noticed. She stared.

"No," Hannah whispered in clear disbelief.

"Er…" Tonks said nervously. She knew her time spent watching Harry was supposed to be a secret. Well, everyone in the Order of the Phoenix knew about her standing guard duty, but even her membership in the Order wasn't exactly supposed to be public knowledge. "Uh… Harry Potter?" She smiled a little too brightly, her hair cycling through a rainbow of colors. "What about hi-"

"Don't bother denying it," Susan said triumphantly, drinking in Hannah's utter disbelief with just a tiny bit of socially acceptable gloating. "I followed you yesterday. I saw where you went and what you were doing!" Clearly the woman had been stalking Harry Potter, too shy to allow her true feelings come out. Especially not with the two other girls also obviously in the way.

Tonks sighed, "Well, I guess you did catch me then." There was no use denying her standing guard, she realized. It probably would have been best to come clean and throw herself at the mercy of the younger Bones. "Look, I know I'm not supposed to…" She started.

Hannah gasped once more in utter disbelief. Susan had actually been RIGHT about something involving love? "Really?"

Tonks flinched, remembering that there were two people who had to keep this from getting out. Otherwise she would have betrayed the trust the Headmaster had placed in her. Nevermind that no one had seen him in days. Also, if people found out, they might make her tell them where Harry actually was. Or worse. They would try to make her stop. That couldn't happen! Not when things were getting so juicy over at the Dursley house! It would be completely unfair to try and keep her away, since she really wanted to know what was going to happen next now that Hermione had moved in too.

Susan and Hannah both covered their mouths to keep excited squeals from escaping. The expression on Tonks's face. The momentary flash of fear, followed by misery that had passed across her features had touched them both.

Even Hannah, despite long experience at being roped into Susan's enthusiasm for interesting things, found herself believing that Tonks really didn't want to be separated from the chance to keep close to Harry, even unseen and unable to speak to him.

Tonks's face turned sober and she dropped her voice, "Look, girls. This is very serious. You can't tell anyo-"

Susan had grabbed Tonks's hand in both of hers and looked straight into the older woman's eyes. "We won't!"

Hannah nodded agreement.

Tonks was startled.

"We will keep your secret. We won't tell anyone!" Susan continued in a gush. "I understand completely! We both do, right Hannah?"

Hannah wasn't sure what she was supposed to have understood, but was in an agreeable enough mood to nod as well.

Tonks was thunderstruck. Then again, it made sense. Susan was a friend, or at least, an acquaintance of Harry Potter's. Her aunt had probably instilled in the girl an understanding of security concerns. Of course, she and her friend would be able to accept the necessity of secrecy when it came to Harry's security arrangements. She breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm glad you both feel that way. It's really a load off my mind."

"In fact," Susan, who still hadn't let go of Tonk's hand at that point added, "We want to do everything we can to support you!"

"We do?" Hannah blinked at Susan, startled.

Tonks likewise was surprised, "You… do? But… what do you mean by supp-"

"I saw with my own eyes, Tonks." Susan said intensely. "You cannot let Parkinson do as she likes."

Tonks said slowly, "It's not like she's done anything to hurt Harry-" Tonks had seen enough to know that the girl really wasn't on the Death Eater's side. The wards couldn't possibly have allowed her to stay if she were. More than that, she'd seen how the two interacted. Granted she was a bit forward, but she could definitely see why Pansy kept teasing Harry. He was just so adorable when he got flustered!

Susan shook her head, "No, no! It is only a matter of time. I'm CERTAIN of it. If you don't step in now, its only a matter of time before Harry… poor, sweet, innocent Harry is going to be hurt."

"Do you know something I don't?" Tonks asked sharply. Susan did spend a lot of time with her Aunt when their schedules allowed for it. She was certain the girl had probably overheard things.

"Surely you can see it?" Susan said worriedly, "Even with Granger there, Parkinson is almost certain to worm her way deeper and deeper. Harry's virtue is imperiled! You must act!"

Hannah was looking back and forth between the two as the conversation continued, slowly growing more and more certain that something was amiss.

Tonks blinked in confusion for a moment, then chuckled. "Oh, come on. That's not really a danger I'm going to be able to keep him from."

"Well, not with that attitude you're not!" Susan argued hotly.

Tonks shrugged, "It might be good for him." Besides, it was fun to watch. Not that she really expected Pansy to get any further than she'd already gotten. The girl obviously was just mostly teasing for the sake of teasing and Harry was such a blushing innocent that it wasn't likely to get anywhere. Although with Hermione added to the mix, she wondered if the two girls were going to start goading each other towards more and more outrageous acts trying to top one another.

She thought about that and decided she would definitely need to stock up on popcorn for her next shift.

Susan stared for a long moment at Tonks then gasped as she realized what the woman meant.

Well, perhaps letting Parkinson give Harry a bit of… seasoning… might not go amiss. After all, a man who has some… experience was supposed to be better than someone just fumbling around. Susan shuddered pleasantly at the thought of an experienced Harry… perhaps using his perfect, shining white teeth to undo her bras- no, wait. That would not do!

"You can't possibly be serious!" Susan said, "To leave him in Parkinson's hands when you could be doing something, anything, to protect his virtue would be practically criminal!" Susan clasped Tonks's hand tighter, "Perhaps you are too shy to act, but like I said, we will absolutely support you!"

"We will?" Hannah asked again realizing to her chagrin that she'd been dragged into another of Susan Bones' interesting situations.

"Yes, we will!" Susan said firmly to Hannah.

Tonks chuckled again, amused at the redheaded girl's enthusiasm, but not quite sure of its source, "Well, how exactly do you expect to 'support' me? Help me keep an eye on Harry?"

Susan frowned slightly at that. Well… she wasn't sure how exactly that would help Tonks claim Harry for her own. Perhaps she would be able to intervene if Parkinson got too grabby again. Perhaps that was what she had in mind. It would help, at least until Tonks got over her shyness and actually told Harry her feelings. The fact that helping her watch the boy would also give her more opportunities to… well… watch the boy. Mmm…

"We'll do it!" Susan declared suddenly into the silence.

"Again, what 'we'?!" Hannah cried.

"Wait, I was kidding!" Tonks cut in. "Your aunt would kill me if I got you involved!" Tonks actually had no actual idea what Amelia Bones feelings towards Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix were, but she knew her own duty. Having Susan at the Dursely house would be… actually, in theory safer than having her stay at the Bones house. No one else knew where the Dursley house was to begin with. And the wards on the house were supposed to be even more extensive than the ones around the Bones home.

"Auntie would understand," Susan said airily, "It's a matter of helping a fellow Hufflepuff! We obviously must stand together!"

"No, we do not," Hannah sighed. "Not that you ever listen to me, you absolute nutter."

"I will tell Auntie Amelia..." Susan said as sudden inspiration struck. Obviously she couldn't just hide and watch from afar! That would not do! How was she to intervene if Parkinson got frisky again? Or Granger for that matter? Well, she was fairly certain Granger wasn't going to be an issue, but if she weren't actually there, then how could she actually help Tonks?

"Yes! I shall tell her that we will be moving in to a safe house! Somewhere in the muggle world. It will be far safer for me to be there than here." She smiled smugly.

"That…" Tonks tried to raise another objection, but realized that Susan was obviously serious about helping her bodyguard Harry. She smiled. "That might actually work." If nothing else, having her there would make it easier on Tonks, since there would be an extra set of eyes on Harry.

Her eyes narrowed at a thought. Susan did seem… a bit too enthusiastic about this. Well, she would be safe under those wards. And the anonymity… and adding another girl to the mess at the Dursley house was going to just increase the amusement exponentially.

She was probably going to need an extra bucket of popcorn.

"Alright, I can see the insanity is catching," Hannah grumbled, "I should get home before I'm caught up in it."

"Oh, but Hannah!" Susan said imploringly, finally releasing Tonks's hand and grabbing onto Hannah's. "I've never really been to the Muggle world for an extended period on my own!"

"... this was your idea," Hannah told her very slowly, trying to work her hand free.

"But don't you think it would be better if there were two of us keeping an eye on Harry… I mean things?" Susan asked innocently, trying to damp down her excitement at the prospect of close observation of the Harry in question.

For Tonks. Of course.

Hannah stared then responded flatly, "No. Absolutely not. You are not dragging me along to Potter's house. For goodness sake, how do you even know they'd let you stay there?!"

Susan smiled brightly and set her fists to her hips, thrusting her chest out proudly, "I can be very persuasive."

Hannah covered her face with her hands and moaned, "This is going to be like my seventh birthday all over again. Only worse! They won't even find the bodies this time!"

Susan clapped her hands excitedly. She would need to pack! This was all so very exciting.

And so very, very interesting.

* * *

_And thus enters Susan Bones, Girl Detective. Written by Scriviner._


	9. Chapter 9

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

Aunt Petunia was only too happy to have another young lady in the house, and she happily talked with Hermione as she had with Pansy. Hermione, however, was far less inclined to put up with this shite and so she had excused herself as politely as possible to the back yard. She sat on a lawn chair and looked up at the stars with a sigh. She grimaced a bit and leaned forward, pushing her hand to her lower back. "Nngh..."

Harry watched her for a few moments more, before he cleared his throat. She looked at him, standing in the sliding door to the backyard.

"Hey," said Harry. She sighed and offered up a pathetic smile.

"Hey."

Harry walked over to her, and sat on the chair next to her. Given it was Vernon's, there was plenty of room for them both. She blushed a bit at his proximity, which was weird to Harry. She'd never acted like this before. Like a... Well... _Girl._

"You okay?" He asked. Hermione sighed again, and rubbed her face.

"It's been... A trying day," she admitted. "A trying two days, really."

"I can imagine," Harry said. He chuckled. "I didn't even get invited to the wedding. I thought I'd rate being a Best Wizard or something..."

Hermione let out a small laugh. "Yeah... Or a maid of honor, for me."

Harry frowned at how hollow that sounded. Hermione was staring off again, looking a bit listless. He began to run through his options to help in this situation...

_Yell at her? No, no, that didn't help last year._

_Slay a basilisk for her? No..._

_Kiss her? There's no mistletoe..._ And he blushed at the thought.

So, he went with the option he'd experienced the most from others, but had never given to someone else. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Hermione sighed, and leaned against him. She returned his hug and nuzzled his chest. Harry stiffened up and flushed at her body heat, and her softness, and her... Her...

_Boobs? She has boobs?! When did that happen?!_ He thought frantically._ I mean, very nice ones too from what I can feel!_

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed. "This is just... I'm just so _tired._ You know?"

"Ah, sure," Harry said, still hugging her.

"I mean, Ron is an insensitive prat but he's... He's my friend and he just up and gets married and I... I don't know what to think of that! Not to mention he's so _happy_ about it. I mean, it's not like I wanted to marry him myself."

"Ah, of course," Harry said with a nod. He offered her a weak smile. "I wouldn't want to marry him, either."

Hermione laughed at that, and rested her head against his shoulder. Harry felt himself stiffen all over, and he awkwardly rubbed Hermione's back for something to do other than think about her boobs. Not that thinking about her boobs was unpleasant, but with her shoved up against him it was a tad... Awkward.

"And of course, Pansy being here and all," Hermione growled. "And your relatives, and this whole mad situation with the Wizarding world..." She looked up at him and sighed. "You know what? I'm... I'm at a loss for what to do."

Harry stared at her in disbelief. "You? _You_ don't know what to do?"

Hermione laughed. "Come on. I'm not perfect. I don't always have a plan or a scheme..."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Hermione?" Harry asked with a wry grin. Hermione actually giggled, and snuggled against Harry a bit more.

"I'm just... I'm so glad you're okay, Harry," Hermione admitted. "I was so worried for you... That I'd... I might lose you."

Harry tightened his hug around her, and pressed his face against the top of her head. "You won't... And I'm not going to lose you, either. So don't be so reckless."

"That's my line," Hermione mumbled. "You reckless... Idiot..."

Harry leaned back in the sun chair, and Hermione came with him, clinging to his shirt like one of those baby primates did with their mums on telly. Harry smiled at the mental image, and stroked her bushy hair.

_This comforting girls thing isn't so bad,_ he thought.

"Potter?" Asked a soft voice. Harry looked over his shoulder at Pansy, who closed the sliding door behind her. She was looking a bit annoyed, though having to talk with Aunt Petunia for hours on end would do that to anyone. He smiled at her, and tightened his hold on Hermione. Just in case she decided to attack.

"Pansy," Harry returned. Pansy walked up next to them, and looked down at the two. Her lip twitched a bit.

"Aren't you comfy?" She said in a soft, teasing voice. Harry flushed brightly.

"We're... We're just friends," Harry insisted. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that," Pansy huffed. "Anyway, if she's going to be hanging around we're going to need more space."

"I don't know where we're going to find it," Harry admitted. "Given we'd need some magic to... To..." He trailed off and smiled. "I think I can solve it."

"Oh? Do you?" Pansy asked with a smile. Harry nodded.

"Yeah... It'll have to wait until tomorrow, and the Dursleys won't like it."

"That's a problem?" Pansy asked. Harry smiled.

"More of a bonus, I think."

"That's more like it," Pansy said with a smirk.

"I think I can do it though," Harry said. "Just going to have to be..." And here he looked out across the yard, as though seeing the hidden Order members keeping watch on his house, "a bit subtle."

"Well, that's a bit of a shame," Pansy murmured. Harry gave her a questioning look, and the Slytherin princess turned to head back inside.

"How so?" He asked. Pansy paused, looked over her shoulder and smirked.

"You won't get to see Granger and myself in bed together," she sighed. "Stuck together in that tiny bed, writhing against one another to get some room..."

Harry's face blossomed into an epic blush, if he said so himself. Pansy's smirk widened just a hair.

"But there'd still be enough room in there for you," she added, opening the door and slipping inside before Harry could stop gurgling over the mental image. He shook his head, and made to get up... But Hermione held fast.

"Hermione? Hermione?" He said softly.

A soft snore was his reply. Harry sighed, and leaned back in the chair. Fireflies darted around them, filling the garden with light. He wrapped his arms around Hermione and leaned back. There were worse ways to sleep at the Dursley house, he decided.

* * *

Susan gave a scandalized gasp as she watched the scene unfold. "That was unexpected!"

Tonks, who was crouching nearby in her own invisibility cloak but persistently giving away her position by dint of the loud munching noises and the smell of buttered popcorn made an inquiring noise.

"Well, I had assumed that all the physical temptations would have been from Parkinson, but Granger is proving herself to be a formidable opponent as well!"

"Am I the only one who thinks that looked perfectly innocent?" Hannah asked exasperated from under her own cloak.

"We wouldn't be showing Tonks proper support if we were to let that action go unnoticed! You are far too lax, Hannah."

"I thought you wanted to just march in there and have us move in?" Hannah asked, admittedly glad to not actually be doing so.

"Well Auntie Amelia had some objections to my moving in somewhere that was not a ministry approved safe house." Susan admitted.

"So we don't have to move in there?" Hannah asked with obvious relief.

Tonks laughed, "Not until the paperwork goes through."

"Paperwo-" Hannah sputtered, then her arms slipped out from under her invisibility cloak to grab Susan by hers, "What did you do now?!"

Susan blinked innocently at Hannah as the hood of her cloak slipped off her head from the womanhandling she was receiving. "I filed the paperwork to have this location be approved as a ministry approved safe house, of course." She said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

* * *

Fred and George's shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, was seeing the most business they'd ever gotten. Literally dozens of wizards and witches were crammed into the shop, buying up food and the occasional prank or protective item and carrying them to the front desk. The twins were wearing broad grins as they kept the flow of customers and money going, as witches walked off with armloads of ramen noodle packs and numerous other items.

"It's brilliant," George said.

"I could get used to being rich," Fred said with a grin.

"We were well off before, now we're just rolling in it," George said in awe.

"And helping the world, too!" Fred added with a beam.

"And Mum said we'd never get anywhere without a Ministry job," George scoffed.

"Showed her."

"Did you now?" Molly Weasley asked flatly, hands on her hips. The Twins gulped and looked over their shoulder as their mother stood behind them.

"Mum!"

"Dearest!"

"Who's the best mother in the world?" The twins tried desperately. Molly rolled her eyes.

"Such ungrateful children," she said flatly. "Really! No wonder Hermione passed you both up!"

"Both of us?" Fred and George asked in unison. Molly waved her hand as the line continued to grow at the front shop.

"Well, there are some Weasley family spells that allow for multiple partners, and a smart girl like that would _no doubt_ enjoy learning... And the spells themselves-"

The Twins turned a ghastly shade of green. Fred shuddered. George began searching for a bucket to puke in. Molly smirked.

"Going to treat your mother with a bit more respect from now on?" She asked sweetly. "Even if you've _showed her?"_

"Yes mum," Fred mumbled. George followed suit. Molly sighed, and hugged her sons.

"Oh, I'm so proud of you two!"

"Mum!" Fred cried, scandalized.

"Not in public!" George added, horrified. Molly huffed.

"Fine, fine... Now then!" She held out a letter. "I've been talking with Madam Longbottom and she's in favor of opening up a trading relationship with us."

The Twins gawped. "You did?!"

"Of course I did! I've had to run around managing the _farm_ all this time, haven't I?" Molly asked in disbelief. "What, did you think I was just going to sit around washing dishes all day?"

"No, but-" Fred tried, but Molly held a hand up.

"But nothing! We're all in this together and I'm going to make sure this business works out well!"

"What about Dad?" George asked. Molly sighed, and held the letter to her chest.

"As dearly as I love that man, he is absolute rubbish with finances," Molly said. "That said, he is involved in quite important work for us. A bit of research into..." And here she lowered her voice, "Muggle resources."

"Oh?" Fred asked.

"What kind?" George asked. Molly beamed proudly.

"He said it could change the entire world, and he had to keep it a secret!"

"Blimey!" Arthur gasped in the theater, taking another bite of popcorn as the action on screen intensified. "That's what we need! _Giant robots!_ Brilliant, simply _brilliant!"_

"I know right?" A blonde young man Arthur had befriended in the theater lobby enthused next to him. "Giant robots make everything better!"

"It'd take a lot of metal and welding, and lightening spells but... But it could work!" Arthur gasped. "Merlin, I'm going to do it! I'm going to build a _giant robot_ and _punch You-Know-Who!"_

"Right on!" The blonde man cheered.

"WOULD YOU PIPE DOWN?!" Shouted an usher.

"Sorry!"

"Such a wonderful, hardworking man my husband," Molly sighed. "In any event, we need to make sure this relationship starts off properly!"

"Er, we'd love to Mum, we really would," Fred said in utter sincerity, "but we're..." He held his hands out and bumped into two shoppers. "Ah, sorry!"

Molly nodded. "I understand completely... Which is why I sent Ron and Luna to do it."

"Ron? But isn't he a bit...?" George tried. Molly huffed.

"With his wonderful wife, my lovely daughter-in-law at his side, there is no way this cannot go perfectly!"

* * *

_Neville appears, next time!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

Snape sat behind his desk, eyes narrowed as his fingers ran down the lists of figures and compared them against the stack of receipts.

He startled when the fireplace's flames blazed green.

"Severus?" A voice called through the green flames, "It's Narcissa. May I come through? We need to speak."

Snape glared at the flames. He was annoyed by the interruption, but not annoyed enough to be rude… or at least be any ruder than normal.

He squared the receipts and rose to his feet. He called back, "Do come through, Narcissa."

Narcissa Malfoy burst out of the green flames, the explosive forward motion, easily turned into a graceful stride that had her halfway across the room with a gracious smile. "Good evening, Severus."

"And to you, Narcissa." Snape said formally, taking her proffered hand and bending over it briefly enough to appease the social niceties.

Narcissa looked out one of the dirty windows to catch sight of the filthy muggle street at dusk. There were tired, filthy men and women walking the streets. The factory's swing shift had just let out and people would be making their way home for dinner.

"Cokesworth. It has been an age." She murmured softly.

Snape looked out the window himself and sneered, "You've done well to stay away from this town. It is a blight upon the world."

"Yet you keep coming back to it," She said gently, "Every summer."

"This is my house," Snape replied stiffly. "No one else would have it and it can be nowhere but here."

"I suppose there is that," She admitted.

"Given the circumstances of your previous visit," Snape said with unusual delicacy, "I suppose it is not surprising that you would choose to avoid coming back here."

She gave him a wan smile, "Giving up my son, no matter that he was a squib was never such a simple thing."

When he made no comment, but she continued on, "Did you know that the Master has said that our Squib children are to be welcomed into the Death Eaters?"

Snape stared at her, "He… what?"

She nodded. "He met with Bellatrix's squib son. A purveyor of muggle delicacies who managed to impress the master with an instinctive grasp of complex magical theory. Or so Lucius informs me."

"Truly, we live in strange days," Snape intoned solemnly.

"Lucius appears to be busy handling damage control and making sure Bella doesn't smother the poor boy… man, now, I suppose." Narcissa replied.

"I do not envy him the task," Snape replied darkly.

"I suppose you can expect a few more of us that you helped will be calling upon you to help track down their wayward children." Narcissa replied, turning away from the window and moving closer to the fire, seeking to warm herself once more.

Snape sighed, "Bad enough that I had to make the arrangements to have those children taken in by the local orphanage, I can't imagine that they would have expected me to keep track of the mewling brats as well, did they?"

"You are one of the few loyal to the cause with such close ties to the muggle world." Narcissa replied.

Snape sneered, "I was the only person they knew who had any sort of muggle ties. Most of the pureblood couldn't be bothered to learn about this world." He paused and added, "No offense meant."

"Well, times are changing," Narcissa said with a smile, "Look at the situation with Draco."

"Indeed." Snape sighed, "Much as I enjoy your company, Narcissa, I do have a full evening of paperwork to attend to. How can I help you?"

"Straight to business," Narcissa said, her smile flicking away to an expression of concern, "I need to know, Severus… how is Draco doing?"

Snape seemed vaguely puzzled by the question, "To the best of my knowledge, the boy has been owling Malfoy manor every night. Surely his letters would give you a better gauge for his state. He has been reasonably satisfactory so far."

"He's been in your care, Severus." She said firmly, "Surely you can give his mother a better report of how he has been." Narcissa pressed. "Do you, for instance, know why he would ask for me to send him all of the childhood clothing he's outgrown?"

Snape blinked, "Ah. That explains the uniforms, then."

"Uniforms?" Narcissa asked in confusion.

"His," Snape cast about looking for an appropriate word, "Employees in our business venture. I was wondering how he had dressed all of them so similarly and yet hadn't asked for any additional budget."

"But with his old childhood clothes?" Narcissa continued, "Is he employing house elves? Or Goblins? Midgets?"

"No, actually," Snape seemed vaguely amused, "Children. Muggle children, in fact. His… senior employees… have long experience with coercing the local guttersnipes into doing work for them."

Narcissa's eyebrows raised. "Correct me if I've misunderstood… but it almost sounds like you just said that my son has persuaded the local bullies to abuse the neighborhood children into doing work for him." She frowned, "For both of you."

"When put that way, I admit it does sound rather sinister… and pathetic."

She sighed, "It… is about what I've learned to expect from Draco, I suppose-"

"Much as it amazes me to admit this," Snape interrupted her, "He actually does seem to have taken to his work with a will."

"That part surprised me as well, Severus." Narcissa admitted, "I was quite willing to allow him this indulgence as a vacation from the last intensive round of matchmaking, but I hardly expected him to last three days among the muggles, much less the three weeks he has been away from home."

"He does seem to have taken a shine to it," Snape agreed, glancing back to his desk. He stalked over and pulled up a scroll of parchment, "Here. Read this and tell me what you think of it."

Narcissa unrolled the scroll and read through the cramped, precise letters. "This is Draco's handwriting," She said, almost accusingly.

"Indeed," Snape agreed mildly.

"This is… this is a business plan." Narcissa continued, not sure what to make of it.

"Yes."

She frowned as she read more. "This… is clearly written out. Spells out the problem in every aspect and the necessary steps to tackle each item, point by point."

Snape made a noncommittal noise and nodded. "Did you notice anything else about it?"

She looked up from the paper, staring at Snape. Her eyes were glittering with tears on the verge of being shed, "There… there are no assumptions of superiority in the handling of the issues. There's no automatic assumption of potential problems immediately being addressed by throwing money at the problem… well, there is step eight, but the money is… it's not being assumed that the money will magically appear at need."

"Quite so."

She shook her head. "There is no way dear Draco wrote this." Narcissa said sharply, "He must have copied this from somewhere."

"Oh, the format, certainly. But the content is entirely his."

"I admit the presentation of the problem and the solutions for each of these points seem absurdly simple and straightforward. I suppose perhaps Draco could have thought of these," Narcissa admitted hesitantly.

"The proposed solutions are actually quite clever. The application of those workarounds are simplistic, yes, but the actual reasoning behind them shows true thought," Snape shook his head, "I find myself amazed."

"How did you manage this, Severus?" Narcissa asked quietly, rerolling the scroll. "Have we made such a huge mistake in ignoring the Muggle world when it can inflict this kind of transformation on Draco in such a short amount of time?"

Snape shrugged eloquently, "Who knows?" He gestured to the desk, "I know this one other thing for certain."

"Yes?"

"The receipts. Your son's spending on the work we're doing. Everything tallies up perfectly. No skimming off the top, not even when I could just as easily miss it. The numbers he is presenting me with match up closely enough to what his proposal calls for. I suspect he'll be ready for stage two within the next day or so."

"Where is he?" Narcissa asked.

"There's a nearby fish and chips shop that's letting him use one of their back booths as an office." Snape replied.

"Not working here?" She asked in surprise.

"I am not having an army of underage miscreants, hooligans and hellions tramping through my peace and quiet." Snape sneered, "I get enough of that during the school year."

"I must see him," Narcissa said suddenly as she reached a decision, "I need to see Draco for myself, Severus."

"Well, I haven't been out in a few days." He sighed then looked at her thoughtfully, "There's some spare coats in the hall closet that should fit you."

Narcissa glanced down at her elegant dress, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" She asked sharply.

"You're too well dressed for this neighborhood." Snape replied absently. "I, for one, would not wish to have to deal with any muggers."

"Oh. That would be troublesome."

"It certainly would be," Snape replied blandly. "For the muggers."

The two stepped out into the street a few minutes later. The factory workers spotted them and to Snape's surprise and befuddlement, everyone seemed to be steering clear of them.

In one or two instances, when he'd met the eye of one of the men, the man in question would inevitably tip his hat or touch his forehead respectfully and murmur, "Godfather."

Narcissa blinked in surprise at this and glanced at him, "What is that about?"

He glowered, "I do not know, but I would bet the Malfoy fortune that it is somehow your son's fault."

* * *

The floo trip to the Longbottom estate was quick, and it left Ron and Luna outside in the warm summer sun brushing the soot off their robes. Ron frowned in curiosity, and looked around the hedge maze the fire had deposited them in.

"Huh? This the Longbottom estate?" Ron asked. Luna nodded.

"Oh yes. There are multiple floo entry points, which can be activated at random. And presumably, they are all heavily defended."

"Defended? How?" Ron asked, looking around. "By plants?"

The bushes rustled, before large, black thorns grew from their branches. Ron gulped as they increased in length, and he put himself in front of his wife protectively.

"I take it back, I take it back," Ron said quickly, and firmly. "Now call them off already!"

The spines stopped moving. Slowly, they receded into the foliage, leaving harmless greenery behind. Luna leaned over and looked at the bushes with her large eyes.

"I think they got the point," Luna commented. Ron snorted.

"Better them than us…"

Luna looked up at him, and then smiled. She snickered. She giggled. She finally began laughing uproariously, holding her stomach as tears streamed from her eyes. Ron gaped at her in astonishment… Before he laughed as well.

"B-Better… Them than us… Heeheehee!" Luna cackled.

"Y-Yeah! Hahahaha!" Ron agreed. They laughed for a time more, slowly petering out. Ron smiled lovingly at his wife, and she smiled back. Her bottlecap necklace shone in the sun, just like her hair. He took her hand and she squeezed him back.

"Shall we?" Asked Ron. Luna nodded.

"Let's."

- - - - -

The maze was not particularly difficult to get through. It seemed a few random turns took them right to the exit. Ron whistled as he looked up at the Longbottom manor, rising majestically in the summer sun before them. It was an old style castle, with towers that resembled gray saucers stacked up around a sink. The light gleamed off numerous windows, shining across a beautiful landscape within the wards.

"Damn… Now that's a house!" Ron said cheerfully.

"I wonder why Neville never invited us over," Luna mused. "Those towers look like ideal Shandor cylinders."

"Shandor cylinders?" Ron asked his wife as they walked up the hill to the castle. Luna nodded.

"Oh yes. They focus magical energy, in particular necromantic energies, for the purposes of opening portals to dark dimensions ruled by beings far too foul for mortal eyes to comprehend."

Ron stared at her. Luna stared back.

"... And you'd want to study that?" He asked. Luna smiled.

"I'd like to write an article on it," she said, wrapping her arms around Ron's. Ron allowed himself a silly grin as they reached the double doors. He knocked the great door knocker, which boomed seemingly for miles around. The doors slowly opened, creaking theatrically. Ron looked around the dark inside of the manor, and saw no sign of anything living.

"Er… Hello?" Ron called.

"Echo… Echo… echo," Luna contributed. Ron sighed, and rubbed the back of his head.

"I guess we go in."

"Yes," Luna said.

They stayed put for a few moments. Luna looked at her husband.

"Ronald?"

"Hm?"

"You said we should go in."

"I did?" Ron asked, trying to look surprised. Luna nodded.

"Yes, I distinctly heard you say 'I guess we go in.'"

"... Well, I guess I did, yes," Ron coughed, looking at the ominous hallway ahead. Still they did not move.

"... Are we going to go in?" Luna asked. Ron nodded.

"Oh! Yes! Sure! I mean… Did ya mean, like, right now?"

"It was implied, but perhaps it went over your head," Luna commented. "That does tend to happen a great deal, dear."

"Oh, fine," Ron sighed. He started into the Longbottom manor, Luna at his side. As soon as they were past the threshold, the doors slammed shut with a bang. Ron gulped, and looked at Luna with a nervous smile. He cleared his throat. The long hall magnified this small noise to terrifying levels, and above them stained glass portraits watched in eerie silence.

"Oi, Neville!" He called. "Neville? It's me, Ron! And Luna too! You remember Luna, right?"

Once again, only his echoes replied. Ron grimaced. Luna piped up next.

"If you are home, you're doing a wonderful job of establishing a frightening atmosphere."

Torches flared to life along the stone walls. Ron yelped. Luna nodded.

"Yes, see that is exactly what I am talking about," Luna said cheerfully.

"Luna, that's not helping!" Ron squeaked. Luna frowned at her husband.

"How do you know? It may in fact be helping a great deal. Our situation hasn't really changed, has it?"

Before Ron could answer, a huge mass smashed through one of the huge stained glass windows. Ron yelped and yanked Luna behind him as it crashed into the ornate marble floor in front of them. The mass writhed and twisted and then screamed, numerous mouths opening up.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh God," Ron muttered as the huge plant thing began to stand up. "I'm never eating a salad again! Never, never, never-!"

"YAAAAAHHHH!" Bellowed a voice above. Ron and Luna looked up and saw the figure of a youn man falling through the broken stained glass, a sword in his hands. The monster looked up and screeched, but too late-The boy struck it in half with the blade. Upon contact with the enchanted steel, the monster burst into flames. It shrieked and desperately waved tendrils and branches, but in the end fell apart into a sizzling heap. Ron gaped at the mess… And his eyes got wider when he saw the tall boy who stood up from between the two halves, panting in exertion.

"Haa… Haa… Haa…" Neville Longbottom turned and smiled. "Oh, hey Ron! Hey Luna!"

"Hello Neville," Luna said, in her usual non-plussed manner. "I see you've been busy this summer."

"Ah, yeah," Neville said, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry I couldn't come to the door. My Gran's out and I had to deal with this… Oh, hang on." He stuck the blade into a mass on the floor, and lifted it up. He took a bite, and grimaced. "Ugh… Still not properly cooked."

"Neville?" Ron managed. "Wha… What the bloody hell is that?"

"Oh!" Neville grinned. "It's why you're here, right? Stuff for your shop?"

"And what, you expect us to sell… Monsters?" Ron asked in disbelieff. Neville shook his head.

"No… Food!"

* * *

Ginny stepped off the Knight Bus in a bad temper. Well, no worse than the one she had when she'd gotten on.

The day had been… strange. And irksome. There had been Dean, for starters. What should have been just a bit more harmless fun had turned into an hour long discussion with bullet points for why he thought they should break up. In the end it had boiled down to precisely the reason why she'd been enjoying it in the first place: It wasn't anything serious.

And he'd wanted more. But she didn't. So… that had been that.

She'd already lied to her mother earlier that day claiming to not be feeling well specifically so she could sneak away early to meet with Dean, but… she should've just gone to breakfast.

She'd ended up coming home right after the argument, hoping for a chance to talk to someone. Except everyone was gone. Hermione had run off because some other girl was putting the moves on Harry. Something that Ginny might have felt a tiny stab of jealousy over, but she did her best to let it go.

Then Ron and Luna were also gone. Ron would've been the last person she'd want to discuss her lovelife with, but Luna, for all her eccentricities would be capable of devastating insight and she was always good at being distracting. Except they'd been sent on some errand to the Longbottoms Estate by their mother.

Mum hadn't been home, because her note explained that she was going to visit the twins, seeing as their store had become the main means of selling off their muggle-bought material and the products of their garden. So the twins were out as well.

And her father was at work.

With her eldest brothers already moved out and on their own, there really hadn't been anyone at the Burrow to speak to.

Everyone had something to do. Something important. Something for the family.

Except her.

So she'd gone for a walk.

The walk had turned into a ride as she'd flagged the Knight Bus and asked the driver to take her to someplace where she wouldn't likely meet any Wizards.

On reflection, she probably should have been pickier about her destination, since she certainly did not expect to be dropped off at Cokesworth.

She looked around at the setting sun, only just barely visible through the overcast sky. She eyed it warily as the streets started to fill with rough, working class men who seemed to be eyeing her.

She blushed, realizing she hadn't changed out of the rather less than conservative short skirt and leather jacket she'd worn for her date with Dean. She didn't really fit in with the neighborhood. As much as she wanted to get some space, she would have prefered somewhere that looked… less seedy.

She was already looking for an appropriate private spot to summon the Knight Bus from, but the growing press of workers heading home for the day wouldn't seem to leave her alone.

She was growing more and more panicked just the rain began to fall down.

The men around her began moving faster, ducking under what awnings could be found and the stoops of anonymous row housing. Others didn't seem to care and if anything seemed to be cleaner for the rain.

Ginny, however, not wishing for her already slightly abbreviated outfit to slip entirely into 'indecent' territory by being soaked, so she ducked into the first open shop she could find. A fish and chips shop that by the look of things had seen better days. Its shingle didn't even have any words on it. Just a stylized picture of a fish and a potato.

Well, she assumed it was a potato. The black speckled brown blob on the shingle could've been anything.

The place was in need of a lot of repairs, the chairs and tables being liberally dinged and scratched. Most of it wobbly and possibly on its last legs, but there was little dust or clutter in the place.

The long, wooden counter had several wooden stools and the proprietor of the place stood close by. He was an older gentleman with a balding head of salt and pepper hair and a bushy moustache that stretched into muttonchops. On the counter was a mechanical cash register that had seen better years… perhaps even better decades. Next to the register was a small rack filled with bags of potato crisps.

It wasn't a brand she recognized. If anything they almost looked home-made. The bags were plastic resealable baggies with little plastic stickers showing a stylized crown and a logo that spelled out: "Prince's Perfect Potato Crisps".

He gave her a vague little smile as though his eyes weren't quite focusing correctly. "Hello, there, miss."

She returned the smile, her nerves still keyed up and made worse by her scare out on the street. "Um… ah… could I…" She looked up at the blackboard behind him that served as a menu and hurriedly did the math in her head. She had just enough muggle money that she could probably get something. At least it would give her somewhere to wait out the rain.

"A regular meal?" She finished, picking the cheapest item. A soda and a meal of fish and chips. Her time with Dean, if nothing else, had given her enough experience with muggle 'fast food' places that she could order without embarrassing herself. .

He nodded still looking slightly to one side of her, "Sure, thing, miss. Let me just get the fryer frying."

She took a seat at the counter, realizing that the stools were probably in the best shape of all the furniture there. She shook her hair out to see if that would help with its dampness, but it was slicked down on her head from the rain and there wasn't all that much she could do with it.

The man glanced over his shoulder at her, "You don't look like a local, miss."

"I'm… I'm not. I was just in the neighborhood," She answered.

He nodded, then inclined his head towards the back of the shop, "Hope you don't mind. There's goin' to be a meetin' real soon in the back there. Might get a tiny bit rowdy, but they're usually well-behaved."

"Oh." Ginny half-rose, appreciating the excuse, "Should I go then?"

"Nah," The old man laughed, "They're small. They don't really take up much room."

At that point a few children ran into the store and hurried past, waving at the proprietor. Ginny's eyes adapted to the dimmer light and she realized that there was already a crowd of children clustered around a booth in the back.

The proprietor called after them, "No running! You aren't late!"

Ginny blinked, "Children?"

The old man's face split into a wide grin, "Mr. Prince's little helpers. He's a clever fellow for putting those idle little hands to such good work."

"Oh." Ginny said, as though she understood the explanation, "Mr. Prince?"

"Fellow who sells these." He grabbed one of the bags and offered it to Ginny. "Have one on the house with your food." He laughed, "Best I've ever had. Family recipe, or so I heard tell."

She accepted the bag and set it to one side. She still didn't have much of an appetite.

The old man nodded and gestured to the back of the store, "Well, I don't think that's really his name. I don't think he's told anyone his real name, but we had to call him something. I think he's been living over at Eileen Prince's boy's place. That's his Godfather, or so I hear. Anyway, that's when everyone started calling him Mr. Prince. All the kids more than anyone else."

"Oh," Ginny said, glancing into the back of the store. It was darker back there, but once the last few kids had shown up a light had been flicked on by someone.

The man? Boy? He only seemed to be a few years older than her at most. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit with a green tie that was obviously chosen to accentuate his eye color.

In a bad light, Ginny thought the boy could pass for Draco Malfoy. There was mostly a resemblance from the color of the hair and a bit of the shape of the face, but otherwise the boy was taller than Draco and his hair wasn't as desperately silky smoothly styled as Draco's was. There was also none of the sneering, condescending arrogance that was always on Draco's face. Instead there was a searing intensity to this man's eyes. A man with a mission. Ginny wondered if he was some kind of religious zealot.

Besides which, Draco Malfoy would never possibly have allowed himself to wander about in a town like Cokesworth, without Crabbe and Goyle, much less having clearly muggle friends. Or even allowing himself to be found in a pokey, little fish and chips shop organizing children.

The man stood tall and proud, his entire manner seemed to command respect. Respect that was freely offered to him by the crowd of children surrounding him. Strangely enough the gaggle of children surrounding him ranging in age from eight to around thirteen or so, were all dressed about as well as he was. Suits and ties, all perfectly tailored for proper fit on almost two dozen children. Ginny knew enough about tailoring from her mother's efforts at teaching her to know that it took a lot of work to get outfits fitting perfectly like that, short of difficult-to-learn resizing charms. Since they all seemed to be muggles, that one didn't seem likely.

Whoever had chosen to dress the children like that had spent a lot of money. Especially when one considered that those children would still be growing. Suits fitted so perfectly couldn't be resized up, she thought. Meaning that at most, they'd be able to wear those perfect little suits for little more than a few months at most.

That was a lot of muggle money, she thought trying not to make any comparisons to Dean or his family.

Standing just a little behind the blonde were two large young men. One of them was bald, but stubble was beginning to grow out a bit on his head. The other, had a perfectly coiffed head of hair and a profusion of piercings clustered around his nose. These two in particular, while wearing the black suits with green ties also had sunglasses on despite full night having fallen and the generally miserable overcast conditions outside. The absurd comparisson to Draco rose up again, contrasting the two men on either side of the blonde man with Crabbe and Goyle.

The blonde had been speaking to the children the whole time and while they were noisily chatting among themselves, but there was a definite undercurrent of restraint and polite attention being given to the man who seemed to take it as a given.

The two men started going among the kids, collecting little baggies of crisps as well as money.

The chattering grew even more excited as the blonde pulled out a large white cardboard rectangle with some sort of diagram on it and gave it to the man with the piercings to hold.

"As you can all see here, we are closing in on our goal. We have perhaps another few weeks and we will most definitely have enough for everyone to join us on the trip to London." His voice was crisp, clear and very upper class.

There was a loud cheer.

"Assuming we reach our expected goals, all of you will remember that we are going to need permission from your parents to allow you to be included, does everyone remember?"

"Yes, sir!" The children called back.

"If anyone's parents are reluctant to provide permission, please let me know so either I, or Godfather," At the mention of 'Godfather' the other children seemed to shudder and quiet down, "Can persuade them otherwise." He continued, seemingly oblivious to the effect the statement had.

The man with the piercings leered down at the children, "'E's gonna make 'em an offer they can't refuse." He said sagely.

This seemed to bring up a small cheer from some of the children.

"Now," The blonde said soberly, his expression one of deep regret "There is one last item we need to deal with before everyone can head home."

This caused another loud stir among the children, but he silenced them by holding up his hand. "One of you has been misreporting the amount of money you have been getting for the sale of Prince's Perfect Potato Crisps."

That brought forth a shocked silence from all the children as suspicious glances began being passed around.

"I already know who's been doing it." He pointed to a smaller ten-year-old boy with light brown hair and an expression of absolute terror.

"William Flint," the blonde called out. "Come forward and face judgement for your crimes."

The boy called upon tried to start melting back into the crowd, but the children around him, including an adorable little blonde eight year old with her hair in pig-tails who kicked the boy sharply in the shin.

The bald man dragged the boy forward, forcing him to stand in front of the blonde. He wasn't that tall. Certainly not compared to his two bookends, but he was definitely taller than the cowering ten year old in front of him. but in that moment, he seemed to loom over the entire room.

"William… Wee Willy. William, William, William…" He intoned slowly, as though savoring the smaller boy's name. "When you first came to me, didn't we have a talk?" He gestured to the other children gathered around them, his voice forceful as he drawled through the rhetorical questions. "Didn't I speak to all of you? About having dreams. About meeting those dreams. About being able to get everything you wished for?"

There were nods from all around. The miserable William gave a resentful nod.

"You know," He took in the rest of the troop of children with his eyes, "You all know what it's like to want things and not be able to get it. I understand," His eyes burned with a passionate fervor. "I have things that I want that have been denied to me."

Those eyes focused on William to the exclusion of all else, "I want it so bad I can taste it. I could have tried to take it. To grab at something with shortcuts. With methods that would have gotten me in trouble. I certainly would have gotten what I wanted, but I wouldn't have been able to enjoy it."

He leaned in closer and all but hissed, "Tell me, Wee Willy? Do you think it was worth it? The rush you got from trying to steal from me… the pleasure of holding on to what did not belong to you… was that worth being trapped in this moment now? With me?"

"No," William squeaked in a tiny voice.

"I know what you want William. I know about the Super-blaster 5000 Watergun that calls to you. Begs you to take it in your hands and start shooting at your friends. Imagining all that screaming and fun."

William froze under the blonde's gaze.

"Godfather has taught me," The blonde continued, "that anything worth having must be earned. Do you think your Super-blaster would be worth anything to you if you'd bought it will wealth ill-gained from me?" The voice dropped once more into an intimate whisper that somehow still managed to carry, "Suppose you had gotten away with it. I had been less observant and you managed to sneak away the fruits of your deceit. Do you think you would have enjoyed it? With your conscience gnawing away at you. Tearing at you. Knowing that you tried to get to your dreams at the expense of everyone elses? How could you possibly look your friends," He gestured to encompass the children once more, "Knowing that you were the dirty little thief that took their dreams from them?"

The rest of the children looked positively murderous at this point, but what they might have done was interrupted when Wee Willy burst into tears and with a sudden motion lunged at the blonde's legs

The two larger men moved to grab the smaller boy, thinking it was some sort of attack, but the blonde negligently waved them back.

William clung to his legs, crying piteously and wailing apologies. Tears and snot staining the material. There was a momentary flash of… something across the blonde boy's face. Disgust and loathing, mingled with a sort of triumph, but it was smoothed away quickly and the blonde's expression had turned understanding.

"There, there, Wee Willy," He said, slightly awkwardly, patting at the boy's head which at that point was somewhere around his knees. "I just need you to understand that there will always be temptations to take shortcuts and get what you want entirely for yourself," He continued, "But alone you are vulnerable. Alone you couldn't earn what you're earning now. You," And now it was obvious he was addressing all the gathered children, "Are stronger together. With me leading you, there is nothing we cannot achieve."

This drew a small, ragged cheer from the children and fresh sobs of pitiful remorse from William.

The blonde gently, but firmly pried the boy away from his legs, another flash of distaste at the fading stains on his pants leg. The bald bodyguard looking fellow picked the smaller boy up by the collar of his little suit to bring him up to the blonde's eye level.

As though catching on quickly, the boy dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins which were quickly dropped into the blonde's waiting hand, "I'm so sorry, sir!" The boy said around his sobs. "It won't ever happen again."

"Now, Wee Willy," He asked gently, "What have we learned?"

"To never try and cheat you out of your money?" Willy said uncertainly. "No matter how little?"

That seemed to startle the blonde for a moment before he continued on, "Well, actually, I was going to stress the importance of honesty, integrity and being a reliable worker, as well as the importance of thinking of others, but that lesson's a good one too." He sneered then made a curt gesture.

The bald man dropped Willy back down to the floor. The other children seemed to be avoiding looking at him.

The blonde man turned a grin on them, "Now, now. Willy's made restitution for his mistake. And now knows he should never try that again, right Wee Willy?"

"'es." Was the tiny answer from the terrified boy.

"What else did we forget to say, Willy?"

"'orry."

"Excellent. He's learned his lesson, everyone. So there's no need to keep being so cold to him," He continued, gesturing grandly, "He's part of our enterprise as well and shouldn't be excluded just because he made a mistake. I'm sure we will all make mistakes and we would all appreciate the chance to be forgiven, right?"

There were some uncertain nods from the children, but that seemed to be enough for the space that had opened around the smaller boy to close up.

"But this is the only mistake he gets," The Blonde said darkly, sweeping that fierce gaze across the terrified children. Then his features lit up with a warm smile that… didn't quite seem to touch his eyes. After a moment the meeting broke up and the children began to file out. He called out after them, "Remember to go with your designated buddy! Does anyone need an umbrella?"

There were a chorus of no's from the children with a few of them raising up small folding umbrellas in a profusion of colors, sharply contrasting the black suits they wore.

"Off with you then," He said, dismissing the children entirely.

They waved to the proprietor as they passed by and a handful even shyly waved at Ginny.

She waved back, but her eyes were still on the blonde, who had slumped into the corner booth's seat and had allowed his head to rest on his crossed arms on the table. There was a disdainful, irritated mutter of, "Children," from the blonde. "I can see why Godfather always seems to hate teaching."

"You did great, sir." The bald man said. "Right gave me chills it did."

The man with the piercings sniffed, "Still think we shoulda smacked him around some. Best way to make sure the lesson sticks."

The blonde mumbled into the table, sighing as he did so, "If he tries that again, I might just let you."

Ginny just simply couldn't help but stare. There was definitely something very familiar about the blonde. The more she thought about how handsome and well-groomed he was... She'd never seen anyone with that sort of passionate intensity either. It was… very attractive.

She sighed and sank lower into the stool. Dean had only broken up with her just this morning and she was already checking out someone else. No wonder her family didn't bother to rely on her for anything. It probably was something wrong with her.

Everyone was busy trying to make sure the family made it through the crisis in good order. Everyone was doing their part, their mother was a stern task-mistress like that. But where did that leave her? No one had bothered to ask her to help. No one had expected her to do anything. Well, why would they bother. She'd been dating Dean. The attitude her mother had projected seemed to indicate that she expected once she'd been married off, that there really wouldn't be any need for her to do any work. Her husband would be expected to take care of her.

… except now she wasn't seeing anyone and there was no one to take care of her and she was just… around. Useless.

"He's awful good with kids, ain't he?" The proprietor asked her with an all-too-innocent grin.

She made a distracted noise that sounded like, "Mm-hmm."

"Bet he'd make someone good husband material." The proprietor continued on, still chatting innocently in a tone of, 'Why, I'm just making small talk here, no ulterior motives at all.'

She glanced back to the blonde man who had since straightened up and was chatting quietly with the two other men. He looked like he knew what he was doing. He certainly seemed to be someone who had taken charge of his life. Someone who would be going places.

She caught herself at that thought and sighed. And there she went again. Trying to attach herself to someone as her way of being 'useful'. No wonder her family didn't care what she did.

She slumped down, noticing belatedly that the proprietor had already put her soda, fish and chips in front of her. It certainly smelled appetizing, but she'd gotten curious about the mysterious Mr. Prince, so she reached for the bag of crisps and opened them.

She took a bite of one and blinked in surprise. It was delicious. Crisp, salty, perfectly seasoned.

That was really all she needed to realize that she was indeed hungry. She'd skipped breakfast and lunch. She fell to devouring the bag with a will, recrossing her legs to a more comfortable position as she did so.

She took another look and to her surprise found that he was looking at her. She hurriedly dabbed at her lips with one of the paper napkins that came with her meal to blot away the crumbs.

She noticed that he hadn't noticed that she was noticing him notice her. That was when she realized that what he had in fact been looking at were her legs coming out of her short skirt.

She sighed a little, but didn't mind so much. She smirked slightly and ran a finger up her outer thigh, the motion distracting him enough to make him realizing that he'd been caught.

His eyes immediately oriented up to look her in the face. Somehow managing to slightly linger as they swept up her body.

He seemed to be trying to play it cool, trying to glance away, although she caught his eyes darting back when she recrossed her legs once more, just to see what he'd do.

He blushed hotly and finally managed to tear his gaze away. She realized his two companions hadn't even bothered covering up their leering. He growled something at them, then delivered a pair of sharp blows to the backs of their heads which made them turn away finally.

She gave him a smile. A small direct one that said, "Okay, you got one free look. Now knock it off."

Then she turned back to her meal, now ready to devour it.

What she hadn't expected was that he'd be sitting on the stool next to hers a few minutes later, saying, "Hello."

* * *

_Oh, this isn't going to end well. Either of these things._


	11. Chapter 11

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

As far as Vernon was concerned, the fact Harry had slept all night outside was a great thing. That he'd had one of his tarts out there was even better. But Aunt Petunia had been beside herself in anger, and ordered Harry to do chores all day as punishment. So Harry was consigned to mowing, pruning, digging, and watering all day in the front and back yards while Hermione and Pansy sat at the kitchen table. Vernon was off at work, Dudley off with his friends, and Petunia was bustling about the house in a very good mood. The two witches stared awkwardly at each other, as their mutual source of distraction walked off and left them alone.

"So... I haven't gotten the Daily Prophet for a while," Hermione said, as conversationally as she could manage. Pansy snorted, and sipped from her can of Dr. Pepper.

"They've been cutting back on circulation to save costs. We get ink from the muggle world, too."

"On what level did this _seem_ like a good idea?" Hermione asked in disbelief, her eyes returning to the textbook in front of her. She sighed as she thumbed through it, not paying nearly as much attention as she usually did. Pansy snickered.

"You are familiar with the adage that political logic is 'we must do something, this is something therefore we must do this?'"

"Yes," Hermione said dryly. "Only that same logic gets you into thinking cats and dogs are the same thing because they both have tails."

"Mix in some panic and you... Well, you can imagine," Pansy said with a sigh. "I imagine there will be a lynch mob out for the Minister before the week is out. This has been going on for a month and if things are getting _this_ bad. I'm glad I ran away when I did. It would have been so much worse..."

"And what a shame it would be, too," Hermione said dryly. "Having to marry Draco Malfoy and continue to live in the lap of luxury. How _awful_ for you."

Pansy glared at Hermione. Hermione glared back. Pansy chuckled softly, which just made Hermione angrier.

"Something funny?" She hissed. Pansy smirked back.

"You don't really mean that," she said. "I mean, you've seen Draco at school. Can you imagine how much worse he is at home? Would you really wish that on anyone? Even me?"

Hermione fumed. She glared down at her textbook, not seeing the words. She looked up, just a moment, and once more only saw Pansy's smirk. Hermione sighed and shut her eyes tightly. The Dursley's lawnmower was running in the distance, a low drone that was the only other sound in the house.

"I... I suppose not," she grumbled.

"Thank you," Pansy said, with some actual sincerity. Hermione stared at her, and the Pureblood witch shrugged. "What? I can actually express thanks." She looked over at the window as the drone of the lawnmower got louder. Hermione followed her gaze, and a moment later she was rewarded with Harry pushing the mower by the window, clad only in a tight white T-shirt. She blushed slightly, and then glanced over at Pansy. Her anger returned when she saw Pansy licking her lips.

"In fact, I have some ideas for how to express my thanks to Harry, _very soon,"_ Pansy purred, with a devilish look at Hermione. The bushy haired witch slammed her book shut, making Pansy jump.

"You. Will. _Not,"_ Hermione hissed. Pansy smirked at her, and drummed her fingers over the table surface.

"Being a bit possessive, I see," she observed. "Since Weasley got himself a bride, you're not letting Harry get away and friendzone you?"

"First off, Harry is my _best friend._ Secondly, how do you even know that term?" Hermione asked in some mild disbelief.

"Seems to pop up a lot on the Muggle telly," Pansy said with a shrug. "In any event," and here Pansy smirked, "you don't have any right to stop me... Unless you're actually going to _claim_ him some way?"

Hermione sputtered. "I-It-I have every right! This is a war, not stupid school drama, and you're the... The...!"

Pansy slowly turned to look at Harry outside the window. Hermione followed her eyes, and her face flushed bright red: Harry had stopped and pulled off his shirt, and was now dumping some cold water over his head.

"... Buh..." Hermione managed. Pansy chuckled throatily.

"Friends. Yes. I can see that..."

* * *

Harry sighed as he rubbed the water out of his eyes, and looked about a foot above his eye level to the left. "Not sure why you wanted me to do this," he said.

"Oh trust me, it'll help with the girls," Tonks said, slightly muffled underneath her invisibility cloak. Harry frowned.

"I don't see how-"

"Look, go around shirtless for the rest of the day and I'll expand the bedrooms," Tonks explained. "And improve them a bit. Your relatives won't notice with a few anti-Muggle wards over the walls. Your own bathroom, your own bed again..." She smirked. "And locks to keep Pansy out."

Harry blushed. He resumed mowing the lawn... Sans shirt. Tonks chuckled.

"I don't see how anyone could get bored with Harry duty..."

* * *

Susan cheered as she peered through her omnioculars. "Splendid! It would appear that Tonks has quite spectacularly overcome her shyness towards Harry."

Hannah swallowed, her throat suddenly dry even as her mouth was watering. "I have to admit... he does cut a pretty fine figure like that. Who knew he was hiding all that under his robes?"

"And see how the sun sparkles off his chiseled muscles? Absolutely delicious." She seemed to catch herself, "I'm sure Tonks must be getting a lovely view up close."

"You know, we're not that far from them that you really need those omnioculars," Hannah murmured peevishly, ducking a hand into the bucket of popcorn Tonks left behind when she went to talk to Harry.

"Technically no, but these have a record function." Susan replied cheerfully.

"I'm your best friend, right?" Hannah asked innocently, munching at the popcorn as she did so.

Susan chuckled and answered the unasked question. "Of course you can look at the recordings later, Hannah. Hufflepuffs should share!"

Hannah suddenly got a worrisome mental image about sharing with Susan. She glanced back to Harry then sighed.

This was going to be a long summer.

* * *

Ginny glanced up from her meal straight into a pair of grey eyes. Draco blinked at the pretty redhead for a few moments and said, "Hello."

"You said that already," She replied finding herself smiling back at the shy tone in his voice.

"I… that is…" He started to say, but then cut himself off awkwardly and blurted out, "You look familiar."

It was clear she couldn't stop herself. Ginny burst out laughing. "You're going with that? All the possible lines you could've used and you went with, 'you look familiar'?"

He reeled back slightly, and took a deep breath, intending to hurl invectives and loudly proclaim that she had no idea who she was laughing at, but then a hurried count to ten in his head to force himself to calm down. He realized that she really had no idea who she was laughing at. She was just a muggle and really would have no idea who he was. He forced himself to smile again, his expression rueful. "It wasn't a line. You really do look familiar."

She seemed to roll her eyes a little at that, but continued to smile at him. She had quite pretty teeth, he found himself thinking. Then he realized he sounded like a complete prat in his own head and tried to bid his thoughts to shut up. She did look vaguely familiar. Like someone he'd been acquainted with in passing from Hogwarts, but her clothes… including that wonderfully, scandalously short skirt… marked her as obviously muggle. He couldn't imagine any Witch, not even a mudbloo- muggleborn- would wear something that short.

"Mmm… do I now?" She asked, her voice in a sort of pleased half-purr. "I have to admit, you look sort of familiar yourself, Mr. Prince." She noticed with some surprise that she was playing with a lock of her hair as they spoke. She flicked a glance towards her traitorous hand. Dean had liked it when she'd played with her hair while they talked. It would drive him to absolute distraction.

She turned her glance towards him and noted that his eyes had focused on the twirling, despite his clearly desperate attempts to focus on her eyes and face. She appreciated the effort he was putting into not ogling her.

He finally snapped out of the fugue her playing with her hair had trapped him in… he would suspect her of bewitching him with some sort of magic, but she was just so obviously muggle that it was just purely on charm alone. "Er… I'm sorry, what?"

She was definitely pleased at the befuddlement in his voice, "Oh, I'm sorry. That's what the proprietor called you." She held up the empty bag of crisps, "Because of these."

He chuckled, "Sorry, it's just usually only the children call me Mr. Prince. For a moment I had to wonder if you were perhaps related to one of my," He tried out the unfamiliar terms that the muggle books had taught him, "Distribution team. Perhaps that's why you seemed so familiar."

She fluttered her eyelashes at him and cursed herself silently for doing it. "No, no. I've never been in this town before in my life. I actually only ended up here because I got on the wrong bus and I needed to take shelter from the rain."

"Luck, then." Draco murmured.

"What's that?"

"It's my good luck, then." He grinned at her. "If you hadn't happened to come here then I might not have had a chance to meet you."

"Ah," She drawled teasingly, "See? That is a much better line than 'you look familiar'."

"But you do!" He protested, but not without humor.

She shook her head, "Well, I did admit you do look a little familiar too."

Draco wracked his limited knowledge of the muggle world and tried to find something else to talk to her about, or at least some other continuation of the topic… well, he'd heard Jocko use the line on someone else before. Perhaps it might work, "Perhaps we met in a previous life then?" Draco asked hesitantly.

She seemed pleased by that thought. "So maybe this would be a chance to get acquainted in this one?" Her tone continued to be teasing, but she'd also found herself leaning forward, turning towards him, finding herself charmed despite herself.

"Exactly." He said in relief.

She shook her head and poked at the empty crisp bag with a finger. "I guess I should consider myself lucky to meet the man who's selling these."

He glanced down and then broke into a broader smile, "Ah, yes. What did you think?"

"Delicious." She said sincerely. "Home made recipe?"

"My godfather's personal recipe," He admitted his face lighting up and enthusiasm clear in his voice. "He's a genius at po… er… alche… I mean chemistry. It apparently translates to cooking."

"Very well." She eyed him speculatively, "And he sends you out to sell the results?"

"I try." He replied modestly.

"And you use kids to sell." She gave him a wry look.

"The… adorable little moppets," He managed to say with a straight face, "Are quite effective. Especially since the little suits make them exceptionally… adorable."

She eyed him for a long moment then laughed, "Are you telling me you are cynically manipulating those children to be as cute as possible to sell your crisps for you?"

"Whatever works." He said, clenching his fist as his eyes blazed. In his mind he could hear the engine of HIS Audi roaring.

She was startled at the sudden change in his demeanor. The passion that suddenly appeared in his eyes. Clearly a man who loved the crisps business. "You seem very serious about this for someone your age."

He pierced her with his gaze. "I have dreams," He said, his voice low and throaty as the thoughts of the gorgeous car drove through his mind. "Goals and ambitions that I am using my godfather's business to realize. In the end, I will have what I want and I want to be able to look my family in the eye… my father… and tell him I earned it myself." He held his hands out to her, "With my own two hands, I will have earned it and he'll never be able to say anything about-" He choked off as he realized what he was about to admit.

To some stranger.

Some random muggle stranger.

A very attractive random muggle stranger.

One who didn't live in the neighborhood and he would probably never see again.

Draco's hands dropped hurriedly and he looked away. "Sorry. I… ah… get carried away sometimes."

She blinked at the sudden shift in the boy's demeanor. Now she found herself even more intrigued. There was… something… in how the boy had spoken that seemed familiar. Something she recognized. Something in herself. A burning desire to prove himself to his family. Just like her.

She smiled and reached out to touch his hand, resting the tips of her fingers on the back of his hand. That startled him badly, but when he caught sight of her face, he smiled back.

They chatted for the next hour or so, moving from topic to topic, enjoying themselves. Ginny kept finding herself flirting with her mysterious new friend and neither really wanted to leave, but Draco realized he would already have to account for his time with his Godfather… Ginny in her turn was going to have to explain to her mother what she'd been doing. She was very glad the Weasley family clock did not have a segment for "flirting.

"I really should go," Ginny told him, her fingertips brushing lightly across the back of his hand where it rested on the counter.

He nodded, "I should go as well, but I hate to leave."

"Well," Ginny replied, a teasing smile spreading across her features, "We could meet here again in a day or so?"

"Like… a date?" He asked hopefully.

"Something like that," She said with a smile.

He smiled back, "I would definitely like that."

"Mmm," She did that little half-purr in the back of the throat that he was rapidly becoming very attached to. "I'm looking forward to it, then."

Draco stood as she stood and blinked at a realization. "Excuse me," He said, reaching out for her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to feel like an absolute idiot… but I don't think I ever asked you your name." He said smiling sheepishly.

"Didn't I…?" Ginny began to ask, staring at him, but then giggled, "I suppose I didn't give it to you, hmm?"

He laughed with her and shook his head.

"I'm Ginny." It was at that point that her jacket had fallen open allowing Draco to notice that the T-shirt she was wearing underneath, was one for the Weird Sisters.

It only briefly flashed through his mind that the shirt molded quite nicely to her body when the much larger and more important thought hit him.

Weird Sisters was a witch band. His laughter abruptly stopped. "Excuse me?"

She noticed the sudden shift. "Ginny. It's short for Ginevera-"

His voice had suddenly risen an octave, "Weasley?!"

She started at that, "Yes. How did you-"

"You aren't a muggle?!" He cut her off, his voice a strangled croak.

"I'm not a… you're not either?!" She snapped. "You're a wiz-?!"

Draco was forced to nod as his voice had now completely failed him.

Her own voice had risen to a shriek, "Malfoy?!"

He nodded again.

"Draco Malfoy?!" Ginny cried out, now loud enough to catch the attention of the proprietor, Jocko and Betty who up until this point had been taking small bets on how long the two would keep chatting.

The two stared at one another in complete dumbfounded amazement.

Ginny was the first to recover, her eyes narrowing and her hand going to the pocket of her jacket where she kept her wand. "If this is some kind of trick, Malfoy…" She let the statement trail off dangerously.

"Trick?" He sputtered, his own hand drifting to the pocket on his suit coat where he'd kept his own wand. "I should ask you the same thing! I was just minding my own business here when you walked in, all kitted out to the nines and looking like the goddess of sexy legs and you're thinking I'm tricking you?!"

Her voice dropped to a growl, "You're tricking all those kids then? This is obviously some kind of scheme-"

"What scheme?! I really am running a business here! We all have to do our part to get by while the trade embargo's in place," He manage to sound offended. "I repeat: I was here first! You were the one who strode in, looking like she owned the place and enticed me to come speak to you!"

"I didn't entice you!" She protested hotly.

"Oh no?" He asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, "What was with all the leg crossing then? And this?!" He reached a hand up and mimed twirling his finger through his hair.

She blushed deeply and shot back, "I admit, I was flirting with you. A little."

"A little?!" He glowered.

"Alright, maybe a lot, but I thought you were just some cute muggle I wasn't ever going to see again!"

"So you're into muggles then?" He asked, almost hesitantly. Not that he cared, of course. Served her right, being into muggles.

"No, I'm into confident men who dress nicely!" She shot back and realized belatedly what she'd said. And also realized what he'd been saying about her. It was sort of flattering in a backhanded kind of way to realize that he'd been so distracted by her outfit that he hadn't recognized her. And he kept calling her 'sexy' which was kind of a win, right? Goddess of sexy legs? She rather liked that, actually.

Except it was Draco Malfoy.

She thrust her chin forward mulishly and growled, "Your father tried to kill me."

He looked as though he'd been slapped. He knew a little about the incident back in his second year, but no details. He remembered that he'd been happy that her life had been threatened. There was the matter of taking responsibility for his actions. Something he would never have considered before this summer. "And I am very glad he did-"

She gasped at him.

"- not succeed." He continued, his voice was somewhat contrite, but he met her eyes squarely. "For what it's worth I am sorry he did that. But I am not my father."

She held his gaze for a while, searching for any deception, any insincerity… Draco was an awful liar, but he wasn't exactly a subtle one. He was radiating indignation and pride.

She growled under her breath and sighed, "So this really is just a coincidence?"

"I'm not entirely convinced." He replied, lifting his chin up arrogantly in a much more familiar way. "How do I know this isn't another plot of Potter's to get me in trouble? This wouldn't be the first time he's followed me around to find out what I was doing."

She replied indignantly, "I am not here because of Harry Potter! And for your information, Malfoy, the world does NOT revolve around you!"

He glowered at her for a long moment, then asked, "So… just you?"

"I don't revolve around you either!" She snapped irritably.

"No! I mean, you really were here just by yourself?" He finally asked weakly.

"Yes. Just me. I really did get on the wrong bus and ended up here. This was all just one big coincidence." She said, expelling a huff of air.

He sighed and seemed to relax as well. "An awful one."

"Terrible." She agreed. "So, this whole thing with the kids… it's really not some insidious plot of yours?"

"No, I really am working on this business for the money." He said.

Her eyes narrowed once more, "Why would you need money? Your family's already filthy rich."

"On the Wizarding side, certainly." He grudgingly admitted. "In the Muggle world, we're practically paupers. With the embargo being what it is… well… you know. I need the money."

She nodded in understanding. "I would have thought you'd only need a little muggle money to get by. I mean… you only have a few people in your household right? It's not like you'd need a lot of food-"

His eyes blazed once more, "Food? This isn't just about food. The muggle money I am earning is going to get me what I need."

She reeled away from the intensity in his tone and the fanaticism she saw in his eyes. "That's…" She scoffed, "What could you possibly want that would need you to use children to sell potato crisps?"

He hesitated as though unsure of how to answer the question. Or even if he should answer the question. He looked at her for a long, thoughtful moment. "I… I could show you." His voice had turned hesitant.

"Show me what?" She asked reluctantly.

"The reason." His eyes grew intent once more. His gaze firmed as though he'd come to some decision. He inclined his head towards the back of the store, "They wouldn't understand. They're muggles. They see it all the time. I think you might get why I'm doing this."

Her eyes turned hard with suspicion once more, "What are you going to show me?"

"Meet me here again tomorrow. Around lunch." His eyes were lit up and his tone enthusiastic. "You'll understand why I'm doing this tomorrow."

He had a look to him that reminded her worryingly of her father when he was talking about his muggle hobbies. She considered that and found that she actually found that sort of look interesting on him. Much preferable to the arrogant condescension he was known to wear back in school. Draco Malfoy in the muggle world just seemed so much less of a total prat. "So you want to meet me… for lunch. Tomorrow?"

He seemed puzzled by her response for a moment then nodded, "Yes. I suppose we can pick up some lunch while we're at it." He nodded firmly, "Dress nicely."

Her eyes widened, "I beg your pardon?"

He nodded, "What I am going to show you requires a certain level of… ah… the establishment I am taking you to will be bound to make assumptions based on your appearance and may bar entrance if you're not-" He fished around awkwardly for the right word as he gestured at her.

She simply gave him a glare.

"Look, you need to just dress kind of well. But muggle style." He looked hesitant. "Fine, okay. We'll get lunch first, but if you don't turn up suitably attired, I suppose we should go shopping for something acceptable." He nodded firmly.

She stared, "Are you asking me to dress nicely, so we can go to lunch together... after which you will take me clothes shopping… then we will visit this mysterious reason of yours?"

"Yes." He said decisively.

She gave him a slightly puzzled smile then giggled, "Fine, Malfoy. It's a date."

"Excellent." Then the fanaticism that had been sustaining him seemed to suddenly collapse at her giggle and the word, "Date?" He said with a near panicked squeak.

"Not a date?" She asked with some amusement.

"Well… I guess… I suppose it could be a…" He looked around worriedly and noticed that the proprietor, Jocko and Betty were all flashing him thumbs up signs. "Yes. Sure. Why not? A date."

She eyed him speculatively then with a wild impulse, she leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

And with that she stepped outside and Draco was staring dumbstruck after her.

Admittedly the view, as she left was spectacular, but it wasn't quite enough to completely stun him.

He had a date.

With a _Weasley_.

He swallowed nervously.

_Father must never know._..

* * *

It wasn't unusual for an Order of the Phoenix meeting to be called late at night. It was a bit unusual to see the leader of said Order, Dumbledore, decked out in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, socks and sandals, and sunglasses. Most of the Order took it in stride though, given it was Dumbledore's right to be as mad as he wanted to be.

"I'm glad to see you all despite these trying circumstances," Dumbledore said. Fawkes coughed up a hairball, which burst into flames. Tonks stared in some disbelief, as did a few other members. "So! Let us recap, brothers and sisters, the events that have led us here today!" He turned to Snape, who sat apart from everyone else due to the fumes from his cauldrons that stuck to him. "Severus, my man-How goes it?"

Snape blinked a few times, and then looked suspiciously at Pomona Sprout. The Herbology teacher coughed at the looks she received from the other Order members, but she shook her head vehemently. Snape sighed.

"The Dark Lord has begun recruiting the Squib children of his loyal followers," Snape said. Dumbledore blinked repeatedly as shocked whispers spread all over the meeting room. "He sees them as an advantage given most of them are in the Muggle world and can provide resources... Though obviously not as much as certain members of our group can at present." He gave Molly Weasley a sneer. She just smirked at him, and brushed her hair off of her shoulder.

"Yes, we've been working towards keeping the Wizarding World from starving!" Molly said proudly. "It's all thanks to Hermione, that wonderful girl! And my boys, of course!" She sighed and beamed at Dumbledore. "We're making such a difference in the world, and it's marvelous!"

"Right on, ginger mama," Dumbledore said. Molly blinked, her smile not quite fading.

"Ah... Thank you Headmaster...?"

"What other news, my compadres?" Dumbledore asked. "What can you bring to me to enlighten our merry band?"

"The Aurors are going on strike," Kingsley Shacklebolt said. At the scowls he got, he shrugged. "The negotiations between us and the Ministry went nowhere. Bones isn't going to let Fudge just cut us down to nothing. Besides, this is probably the safest time for it." He looked over at Snape with a raised brow. "Unless someone here isn't telling the full story on the Dark Lord's activities?"

Snape sneered back. "I'm sure you'll be the first to know, Shacklebolt."

"Pax, everyone," Dumbledore said. "Severus, get that stick out of your arse for a moment."

Snape gaped. Someone snickered in the background. "I-Wha-?"

"You heard me. Stick. Out of your arse," Dumbledore said. He scratched his beard. "Finally... Harry. How's our little time bomb ticking?"

Remus and Tonks looked at one another. Remus coughed. Tonks shook her head. Remus motioned with his hands towards Dumbledore. Tonks rolled her eyes and crossed her eyes. Remus growled. Tonks huffed. Remus sighed, and turned to the placidly sitting Dumbledore.

"Albus, he's taken in a runaway Pureblood girl."

Much gasping ensued, especially by Molly Weasley. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? Who?"

"Pansy Parkinson," Remus said. Tonks glared at her boyfriend. Remus shrugged helplessly. "Apparently she ran away from home rather than be married to Draco Malfoy."

"Hard to blame her," opined Bill Weasley.

"I'd run too," Hestia said.

"He really is a twat," Snape admitted. Everyone stared at him, and he shrugged. "What? He is... Until recently," the Potions master muttered.

"You think she's trying to seduce him to evil or something not cool like that?" Dumbledore asked. Remus shook his head, as Tonks copied him.

"No no! She just ran into him by coincidence, as far as I can tell," he said. "Hermione's there now."

"So, let me get this straight," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers. "Harry Potter, the boy without a clue, is shacking up with two hot witches at once?"

"I wouldn't go that far, but-" Remus tried, but Tonks cleared her throat.

"And Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott are also in on it," Tonks said with a grin. "Helping me keep an eye on them... Or rather, him."

"Tonks?" Remus asked in confusion, as the Weasley twins high fived in the background. Snape made a face.

"To think they're sullying themselves like that..." He turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, I can happily remove Parkinson and Granger from the brat and-"

"Severus, what did we discuss about that stick up your arse?" Dumbledore asked kindly. Snape sputtered.

"I-Headmaster-!"

"I am not the Headmaster right now," Dumbledore said, holding his hands up. "I am the Big Kahuna. And the Big Kahuna is happy that Harry Potter, the Boy Until Now Without Balls, is proving me wrong."

"What do you mean, without balls?" Remus asked, offended for his best friend's son. Albus shook his head.

"Every year, he goes back to the Dursleys. He could have asked me to scare the living shite out of them, he could have asked me for training to defeat ol' Tom, he could have done a lot... What does he do? He sits around and mopes. Now, he's finally gotten his head out of his arse and gotten some lovely witches to live with him?" He nodded happily. "I've never been more proud! In fact, I'm going to reward him right now." He turned to Fawkes. "Oi, take HP the Hat. The Hat'll know what to do."

Fawkes trilled happily, and vanished in a burst of flame. The Big Kahuna smiled out at his Order.

"Any other news? No? Then enjoy the pizza and chicken wings. I've gotta jet." Albus vanished with a pop of apparation, leaving the table full of snacks, pizzas and treats. All eyes once again turned to Sprout, who held her hands up.

"Don't look at me! He didn't get into the special greenhouse this time!" She looked side to side.

"... As far as I know!"

* * *

_A lot is coming up. So I've got to build up to it slowly, or the shock might kill you all._


	12. Chapter 12

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

Alfred was kind of impressed and somewhat weirded out by the dedication these Death Eaters took to their LARPing. He swore, the Bellatrix chick didn't break character period! Not even when he commented that he'd make her a proud grandmother some day! She'd actually acted like... Well, that she was overjoyed to hear that!

The hugging was a bit much. Crying too. Then when she'd asked him if he'd like any help with finding a proper "Pureblood wife", he'd quickly excused himself to find Tom.

The "Dark Wizard" was currently looking over spell charts and runes in another room in the castle. In said room, wobbling in front of him, seemed to be several zombie cosplayers. Alfred whistled, impressed, as he entered. Tom looked over his shoulder and blinked.

"Ah, hello Loremaster," he said pleasantly.

"My Lord!" Alfred said cheerfully. "Wow... Revenants?" He looked them over. "Great costumes, guys!"

The zombies moaned, shuffling a bit. Tom raised a hand, and they stopped.

"Er, yes," Tom said. "Very good costumes." He frowned thoughtfully as he looked over an _Outbreak_ sourcebook. "They are Inferi, revenants animated by a magic spell. The requirements are that they must be killed by the summoner to be used as such."

"So, no zombie plague? Have you considered a dedicated necromancer?" Alfred asked, studying the rotten face of one of the Inferi. Seriously, the dedication to this LARP was _amazing._ His friends would never believe it...

"They are in short supply, and most would not do anything with me," Tom admitted. "The Ministry keeps them far too well protected."

"Huh! That's a nice twist, actually," Alfred said with a smile. "A lot of the times the necromancers are just treated like crap because of what they're employed in. But they provide a vital service in a magical community." He gave Tom a thumbs up. "Nice twist! Makes it hard for the campaign though."

"Yes," Voldemort admitted. "There are some spells I know to bring more such Inferi up... However, they are limited. Not very cunning, very..." He checked a sourcebook. "Low level."

"Hmmm..." Alfred hummed and looked over more of the scrolls. These parchments were really very authentic. He felt like sneezing over them. Though he refrained from doing it out of respect to Tom. It'd be plain rude. "What about these giants in the campaign? What are you going to do with them?"

"I was thinking of attacking Dover, as a demonstration of my power," Tom explained. Alfred rolled his eyes and looked over the maps.

"Come on, that's just _lame."_

"Excuse me?" Tom asked flatly. Alfred waved his hand.

"Well, you've got to have a _point_ to it, right? Otherwise it's just a waste of resources. You've already given them tons of offerings, you really want an attack on Dover to be what you get out of it... My Lord?" He added, just as Tom was starting to become very cross. Tom frowned and looked over the maps.

"I see... Where would you strike?" Tom asked at last. Alfred hummed again, and pointed at the map before the Dark Lord.

"Little Whinging."

Voldemort blinked. "Attack Little Whinging? Just like that?"

"Well, if you've gotten giants together you're going after the big threat, this Harry Potter guy right?" Alfred asked. "A really ruthless Dark Lord would just sic giants on him. Destroy his home, scatter his friends to the winds. That's a good demonstration of power that also serves a purpose."

"It may push Potter to go underground," Tom replied. Alfred shrugged.

"Yeah, but as long as he's not interfering overtly you can take over the Ministry, right? I mean right now man, this campaign is getting dull. You really need to step things up."

Tom sighed. "As much as I would like to... Step things up, Loremaster, such an attack would be... Involved. And would require far more giants than I currently command."

"Maybe," Alfred said, tapping the table. He looked over at the zombies again... And grinned. "Hey... My Lord? You can turn humans into zombies, right?"

"Yes," Tom said, frowning deeply.

"What about giants into zombies? You know," and here Alfred held his hands up, "giant zombies. We could even go for a Flesh Colossus, if you want the really big guns."

"Flesh... Colossus?" Voldemort asked. Alfred dug around in the books on the table, and held up the monster manual to the right page. Voldemort read it... And grinned. And then he began laughing.

"Mwahahahahaha... MWAHAHAHAHAHAH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

Alfred just clapped. "Anyone tell you that you've got a _brilliant_ wicked cackle? You should do it more often!"

* * *

Draco walked into the house at Spinner's End with studied indifference.

The door slammed shut on its own behind him and from the shadows, Snape's voice drawled out, "You're late."

"The meeting ran a little long, Godfather," Draco replied with only a slight quaver to his voice. "And I was waiting for the rain to stop."

"Did you, now?" Snape asked dryly, taking a step towards Draco, his face still hidden in shadow.

"Is something the matter?" Draco asked, feeling a trifle nervous and keeping his gaze averted.

"Are you certain you weren't late because you were spending time with a young lady of a… ginger persuasion?"

Draco swallowed, "Er… I… that is…"

"I would so love to hear your explanation for this, Draco. I was under the impression that you were serious about our little enterprise." Snape continued with cutting sarcasm, "Or was that all talk?"

"I am still firmly committed to our work, Godfather! I wasn't… it wasn't like I was skiving off or anything, I just had a bit of free time…"

"Did you, indeed? I was under the impression that you were close to the point where you would be moving our manufacturing to the Wizarding world. If you had time to gallivant, then certainly you could have gotten your preparations underway?"

Draco stiffened, "I was not gallivanting, Godfather. I resent your implication. And I already have my schedule and appointments for Phase Two already written up since last night." His eyes narrowed, "Hold on. I just realized. You followed me!"

"Wherever did you get that impression?"

"How did you even know I was with a redhead?"

"How indeed?" Snape asked slyly.

"I haven't met your eyes since I came home, Godfather. So obviously it wasn't legimancy." Draco pointed out.

"I have my methods," Snape muttered.

"You followed me." Draco said with a huff, "I had thought I had at least earned a little trust from you, Godfather!"

"You are a fine one to speak of such a thing when you're the one dating a Weasley." Snape snapped back.

"It's not… I mean… she's… we're not really…"

Snape held a hand up, "I don't want to hear it." He was about to mention about Narcissa's visit, but Draco interrupted him.

"Well, this is all your fault!" Draco burst out suddenly.

"How did you come to this conclusion?" Snape glared down at the boy.

"I never had a thing for redheads until I moved in with you." Draco growled.

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Indeed? And how did that happen, pray tell?"

Draco met his eyes and glowered, "Hallway closet."

Snape froze. "Ah. That."

"Yes. That. I would have expected it to have been better secured," Draco said smugly.

Snape glowered, "I would not have expected you to snoop." He blinked, "Actually, no, I take that back. I did expect you to snoop."

"Then why didn't you-?"

"I had forgotten some of it was in there," Snape admitted.

"Some of it?!" Draco sputtered, "That entire closet was filled with nothing but redheaded pornography! Reams and reams of it!"

Snape sniffed and glanced away. "A man has… needs."

"There were magazines in there dating back to 1975! All redheads!"

"I am aware of what I have in that closet, Draco. No need to belabor it." Snape growled.

"And I can't help but notice every instance that there was a man in the picture someone decided to color the hair long, straight and black."

Snape bit back a snarl and sighed. "We never speak of this and I don't mention to your father about you and the Weasley girl."

"Deal." Draco said hurriedly.

* * *

Dinner that night was a bit... Nerve wracking. Which was unusual for Harry. Usually dinner with his relatives consisted of a lot of hostility and boredom. Not this time.

Not with two lovely witches sitting next to him, pressed shoulder to shoulder. The Dursleys were all on the other side of the table, staring back. Save for Petunia, who was practically cheerful.

"Now, I must say these artichokes are very well done," she said in approval, looking over at Pansy with a smile. "You chopped them very neatly, Pansy!"

"Thank you Aunt Petunia," said Pansy with a smile. She held up a finger wrapped in a bandage, and winced slightly. "It was a bit dangerous though. Chopping vegetables and all..." She looked to Harry and smiled. "Kiss it better, Harry?"

Harry's fork froze as he lifted a bit of casserole up to his mouth. He coughed and looked over at Pansy. He practically heard Hermione's teeth grinding. "Er... What?"

"Well, it's _Muggle_ tradition to kiss a booboo better, isn't it?" Pansy said coquettishly. Her smile was about as innocent looking as the Weasley twins after a bomb went off. "Why not kiss it better?"

"He doesn't need to kiss it, it's just fine," Hermione stated flatly. Pansy pouted.

"But I want him to kiss it better," she said. "Don't you want to kiss me... _Better,_ Harry?" She practically purred the last statement, and Harry's face turned bright red.

"Go on, kiss it better boy!" Petunia said sharply. Harry gaped at his aunt. His uncle was sated by the gold in his hand, and Dudley was just watching in confusion. Hermione, on the other hand, looked like she was about ready to burst into flames.

"Ah..." Harry looked apologetically at Hermione, and gave Pansy a quick peck on her finger. "There. Happy?" He asked. Pansy pouted.

"You could have put a _little_ more effort into it, Harry," Pansy practically crooned. "After all... You want me... To get better, don't you?"

"I'm quite sure you'll _live,_ unfortunately," Hermione very nearly spat. Dudley cleared his throat.

"Ah, I can kiss it... Better... If you'd like... I... Ahem..." The glares he received from both girls was enough to shut him up, and he returned to that bizarre pitying look he'd been wearing around Harry almost constantly. Harry suppressed a groan.

"So, you have called your parents and let them know where you are?" Vernon grunted across the table. Hermione nodded.

"Ah, yes. They're fine with it," she said. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're fine too, I take it?"

"I am... For the moment," Vernon allowed, his piggy eyes gleaming in greed. Petunia nodded with a smile.

"Very good! Now Hermione, Pansy, you're fine with sharing the bedroom upstairs? And Potter can just take the couch."

"Ah, actually Tonks expanded his bedroom a bit," Pansy said quickly. "So we can all fit... In separate rooms, of course," she added, with an intense look at Petunia's expression. The earring did it's work, however, and Harry's aunt relaxed.

"Good, good... No funny business though! Absolutely nothing! I will not have the scandal of teenaged mothers under my roof!" She declared. Hermione blushed and sputtered.

"I-I have no such intentions!"

"Oh good, can I have them?" Pansy asked, leaning against Harry. Hermione growled.

"YOU MAY NOT!"

"Oh, look at the time, I think I'll turn in early," Harry said quickly, getting up and heading for the stairs. Dudley watched him go, as did Pansy and Hermione. Hermione scowled.

"I think I'll get to bed too, while I'm at it," she said flatly. Pansy smiled in a bit of challenge.

"That sounds fine by me," she returned. They both rose and walked upstairs, matching stride for stride. The Dursleys watched them go, silent.

"... Blimey, how do I get _his_ luck?" Dudley grumbled. "Mum! I want two girlfriends!"

"They aren't his girlfriends, Duddi-kins, and you can't have two!" Petunia said flatly. "It's quite improper!"

"But the freak gets two!" Dudley whined.

"Vernon! Tell your son why he can't have two girlfriends!" Petunia pressed. Vernon huffed.

"For one thing, they'll tear your balls clean off if you don't treat them both proper... or just _one_ of them-"

"VERNON!"

"What, what?"

* * *

Tonks had indeed done what she'd promised, and Harry's meager bedroom in the Dursley house had been expanded. It was tripled in size, with his closet now expanded into a second bedroom and a side door added that led to a small bathroom. Harry had to admit, he was very impressed with the work... Until he saw the note Tonks left behind.

_Just dug out an auto-Apartment kit from the Transfiguration shop!_ It read. _Just tap the doorframes with your wands three times to fold them back up. And I borrowed them from my mum, so don't mess them up too badly. You can shag the girls on the Dursley's furniture, not mine!_

Harry flushed, rolled his eyes, and folded the note up. He stuffed it into his pocket and huffed.

"Why does everyone seem to think I'm some kind of... Of lecherous hump?" Harry muttered.

"Probably because it would do you some good to act like it!" A raspy voice spoke. Harry spun around and pointed his wand at his bed. His eyebrows rose when he beheld the pointed form of the Sorting Hat, sitting on the covers with a bit of a scowl on it's worn features.

"Hat?" He asked in disbelief.

"That's me," the Hat said. "And what's this about you unhappy that you're being seen as a lecherous hump, hmm?"

"I just..." Harry sighed and rubbed his head. "I... Why are you here, anyway?"

"I asked the first question, you know," said the Hat. Harry scowled.

"This is my house."

"You don't seem to act like it," the Hat retorted. "'Oh, woe is me! Back to the Dursleys every year!'"

Harry glared. "I don't have any choice in the matter, do I? I have to come back here for the blood protection! I have to put up with all this crap, for ten years, and I'm not about to let some... Some piece of patchwork tell me otherwise!"

"That's true... But now that you know, there are other options," the Hat said. "Action without knowledge is useless. But knowledge without action is equally useless!"

Harry scowled and sat down on the bed. He glared at the Hat. "What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent me," the Hat said. "He was impressed with something you did."

Harry scoffed. "That's rich..." His anger turned to bitter depression, as thoughts Harry hadn't wanted to think about burbled up. Thoughts about... Sirius...

"Hey, hey," the Hat said. "Enough of that. Come on... Put me on your head."

Harry blinked. "Why?"

"So I can get a better view," the Hat said dryly. "Why do you think? Come on. I've sat atop thousands upon thousands of heads, and I've offered a bit of help to every single one. You can take it if you like, or you can ignore it, but at least give me a listen, hm?"

Harry sighed, and reached out for the Hat. He slowly pulled it onto his head, and scowled into the dark, aged leather. "Happy?"

_Much,_ the Hat said in his head. Harry saw memories flash before his eyes. From beginning to end, from his earliest memories in the cupboard to Pansy and Hermione's little fight. Harry blushed, he growled, he cursed, he was about to yank the Hat from his head-

_HOLD ON! Hold on, Potter!_ The Hat cried urgently. _I'm not like that greaseball, here to poke around just because I can't get over the childhood crush I lost!_

_Wait, what?!_ Harry gasped.

_Oh, yes,_ the Hat said. _Snape was in love with your mum. Rather obsessed with her, really. The guy needs a hobby. But suffice it to say, that's a bit of mental trauma we'll have to deal with later._

_What, you're a therapist or something?_ Harry asked blithely. _Or is Dumbledore going to rearrange my head to make me into a better weapon-?_

_Oi, wanker!_ The Hat barked in his mind, and Harry jumped. _Why not let me finish a thought before you leap ahead in yours?_

Harry started. ..._ Did you just call me a wanker?_

_I did, now get over it,_ replied the Hat. _The fact of the matter is, Potter, Dumbledore wanted you to have as normal a life as possible. He didn't want you to be raised up into an Anti-Voldemort assassin. He didn't want you to be turned into some crazed psychopath. He wanted you to be happy. And yes, being at the Dursleys was about as much fun as a pack of fabric eating moths..._

_That sounds a bit fun right now,_ Harry thought back savagely.

_Suffice it to say, Dumbledore could have checked up on you and could have done more to ensure you weren't abused and neglected,_ the Hat continued. _He regrets this because he thought the Dursleys would be better people. That's his flaw, you see? He wants to see the good in people so desperately he will overlook the bad. But, the good thing about Dumbledore is that he will learn from his mistakes... Provided someone confronts him over it._

_I... What? I should have told him the Dursleys were abusive?!_ Harry asked in disbelief. _I should have demanded he do something about it?!_

_You could have. You didn't,_ the Hat said. _Why didn't you?_

Harry thought about it. _Because..._ Harry sighed in resignation_. Because he's Dumbledore..._

Because he was so used to being alone he didn't even think of asking for help. He didn't think of just... Just talking to an adult, because what good had it done before?

_We all have blindspots, Potter,_ the Hat said. _That's human nature. But it's also human nature to change how you act. To change your approach. So!_ And here the Hat seemed to smile, _what would you like to change?_

Harry frowned. _I... I want to survive Voldemort._

_Survive?_ The Hat asked. _That all? Merely survive? You've done that plenty, Potter. What about something you don't dare let yourself hope for?_

Harry looked out the window at the stars twinkling over Privet Drive. _... To win?_

_That's what you want, isn't it?_ The Hat asked. _To win? To have a life of your own? To be... A father?_

Harry felt his cheeks redden. He could see children in his future, a loving wife, a home... Days without fear or terror. Just living, enjoying life...

_Ah, see,_ the Hat said, _that's what you want. That's what you desire, more than anything else. Not what a bunch of tarty fangirls think you'd be after, adventure and danger and hunting Riddle._

Harry nodded. _Yeah... But how can I? How can I... I mean, I'm just..._

_You're just you, that's right,_ the Hat confirmed. _But you can make yourself better. Stronger. Faster. Wiser. You've got the same problem as Dumbledore, Potter: You don't know when to ask for help. You don't know when to move out of your comfort zone, to change... Not until you get a wake up call. You really want to just sit around and let a bunch of old wizards tell you where to go and what to do and think?_

Harry shook his head. _No... No I don't!_

_Then tell me, Harry James Potter,_ the Hat continued, _**what do you want?**_

That family appeared in his mind again, and Harry felt a tear at the corner of his eye.

_I want... I **want...** To be a dad. I want to be a husband. I want... A family and a life!_

_Well, it seems a shame to just admit defeat and not take any action towards that, doesn't it?_ The Hat asked. _I am a helping hand offered by Dumbledore... So why not take it? And see if we can't make that dream come true?_

Harry smiled, and nodded as a determined light came into his eyes. _I... Yes. _

_Good... And maybe a few other dreams, too,_ the Hat commented. Harry blinked.

_What do you mean?_

_Granger and Parkinson dripping in honey... Oh my, you naughty boy you! And this one, with the Quidditch uniforms-_

Harry whipped the Hat off his head quickly, his cheeks bright red. The door opened, and Pansy and Hermione walked in. Hermione blinked.

"Harry? What's the Sorting Hat doing here?"

"Ah... Dumbledore sent it," Harry said quickly. He smiled. "You know, to uh... To help me out!"

"You just asked for it, and got it?" Pansy asked in disbelief. She walked up to the Hat and examined it. She snorted. "Doesn't seem to be a lot of help..."

"And you haven't changed since I first sat on your head," the Hat retorted. "Well, maybe you've filled out a bit but being able to float isn't helping your brain much, is it?"

Hermione snickered as Pansy fumed. The Hat looked over at Hermione.

"And you! Get shagged. You desperately need it you control freak," the Hat said. Hermione went bright red as it was Pansy's turn to snicker. "You can ask Potter for some ideas of how to get that done-MMPH!"

"Well I'm tired, how about you? Goodnight!" Harry said quickly, stuffing the Hat under his pillow.

* * *

Hermione was glad she'd packed pajamas. While spending another night in Harry's arms would have been nice, doing so in clothing she'd worn for two days straight was pushing it. She flushed a bit at the thought, but focused on keeping her mind clear of recrimination.

She had plenty of _that_ for Pansy, who had taken the other twin bed in the Porta-Apartment and was studying a book from Dudley's little touched library.

"Hmph... This Frankenstein fellow doesn't seem to know a lot about homunculuses," Pansy commented flatly. "You should always have a Compulsion spell on it, or a poison-filled molar you can hit with a cracking charm." She shook her head at the book and looked up at Hermione. "Then again, it is a Muggle trying this so perhaps I'm not surprised."

"And the lesson about how playing God can lead to terrible consequences? Sails right over your head," Hermione sighed, sitting on the bed opposite Pansy. The Slytherin girl smirked softly.

"The lesson is to not be an idiot when you're creating new life," Pansy replied. She shook her head. "Really, this is an instruction book on what _not_ to do."

"I suppose," Hermione sighed, scratching her cheek. Pansy cocked an eyebrow, and studied Hermione carefully. The bushy haired witch frowned back.

"What?" Hermione asked, a bit annoyed. Pansy smiled.

"Just enjoying the fact you haven't puffed yourself up like an angry cat at me for the past minute. I dare say that's a _record,"_ she said with a smirk. Hermione snorted.

"I don't want to damage the book," she said in a huff. Pansy's smirk grew.

"That, or Potter's not here."

"Thankfully," Hermione muttered. She pulled the covers up and slid her feet under them. Pansy studied her carefully. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed.

"What now?" She asked flatly.

"I suppose I'm just..." She snickered. "Amused, that's all. By this situation." She smirked at Hermione, idly flipping the pages of the book.

"Uh huh?" Hermione asked, not very interested. Pansy nodded.

"That, and in disbelief. Here I am, in the Muggle world, sharing a room with the Golden Boy himself and his bookworm." She shook her head and sighed. "I really didn't think this is how I'd end up."

"I didn't think it would end up like this, either," Hermione muttered. Pansy chuckled.

"So how did you think it would end up, mm?" She raised an eyebrow. "You with Weasel? Pumping out a dozen red heads a year?"

"No!" Hermione said sharply. Pansy's smirk grew, and Hermione's flush gave her away. "I... I'm not talking about this. I want to sleep!"

"Come on," Pansy said. "I'm the only girl around you can talk to about this."

"And _why_ would I want to talk to you about it?" Hermione hissed. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Because the Dark Lord enjoys hearing teenaged gossip, of course," she said. She looked Hermione over. "Really Granger. If we're stuck together, we might as well make the best of it."

"Who are you and what have you done with Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione demanded, sitting up in bed. "I swear, you're acting almost _human."_

"I'm acting like this because at the moment, we're not Gryffindor and Slytherin," Pansy said. "We're two girls... With a boy involved. Something about as old as human history, I suspect."

Hermione sighed and shut her eyes tightly. "I'm not... I'm really not interested in Harry like that," she tried. Pansy snorted.

"Please."

"I-I really am not!" Hermione said quickly. "I mean... I have thought about it but..." She scowled at Pansy in suspicion. The Pureblood witch laughed.

"Granger, do you really think that if I was a spy this information would make the Dark Lord want you dead _any less?"_

Hermione frowned. "I... I suppose not."

"There, see? Logic," Pansy said with a smirk. "And here you're supposed to be the _smart _one."

"For the sake of the book I'll let that one go," Hermione growled. She turned in bed and sighed. "All right... Assuming I do have... Feelings for Harry, and I'm not saying I do!" She glared at Pansy. "It's no business of yours!"

"It is, actually," Pansy said. "After all, I have... _Some_ interest myself."

Hermione stared. "I... Really?"

"No, I routinely throw myself at wizards all the time," Pansy snorted. "I mean... He's rather nice. He took me in, didn't make a move on me." She seemed almost disappointed by this, but moved on. "That said... Getting to know him outside of Hogwarts, well... He's so... Different." She smiled at Hermione. "And frankly, that kind of different is... _Good."_

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well I'm glad you're thinking about romance in the middle of a wizarding world crisis," she said. Pansy chuckled.

"Can't focus on the big picture forever," she said. "And besides, there's a future to think about." Her cheeks reddened. "And maybe I want a future that involves Pot... _Harry,"_ she said.

Hermione calmly stared at Pansy for a long, long time. She took a deep breath.

"That will have to be as friends, I'm afraid," Hermione said calmly. Pansy smirked.

"What? I can't have you both~?" She teased. Hermione's face went bright red again.

"Wh-What?!"

Pansy giggled. "Oh, you're just as much fun to tease as he is!" She turned over in her bed, and pulled the covers up. "Goodnight, Granger."

Hermione scowled at Pansy for several furious minutes, before she pulled her own covers up. "Goodnight, Parkinson," she muttered back.

* * *

_Still building up... But don't you worry. It's coming..._


	13. Chapter 13

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

"How convenient that they expanded the room. We should have no trouble moving in, Hannah." Susan said brightly.

Hannah, now popcornless, slumped against the tree they were hiding near. Given that dark had closed in, the stuffy invisibility cloaks had come off.

"Why are we still here? Tonks left hours ago." Hannah began counting reasons for why they should leave on her fingers,"We haven't had dinner yet, if you don't count some popcorn. The paperwork that would let you-"

"Us." Susan corrected her absently.

"- us move in won't even be ready for at least another day or two. We literally have no reason to stay here."

Susan put the omnioculars down and tutted at her friend, "Come on, Hannah. We're Hufflepuffs! We shouldn't shy away from a little hard work. If we leave now we might miss something."

Hannah glowered, "There's hard work and then there's insanity. I've long suspected you've already broken through to the other side."

Susan frowned, "You know perfectly well that there is a method to my alleged madness." She passed over the omnioculars to Hannah. "This is what I've been observing for the past few minutes."

"Is that..."

"Yes."

"... how are you watching Potter in the shower?!"

"The bathroom Tonks installed has a discreet little window next to that vent over there."

"That's a rain gutter."

"Quite. And I'm quite sure Tonks must have done this intentionally, but the window just happens to be pointed just right at the mirror over the sink so that we get an absolutely perfect view of the shower area."

"So this whole time you've been peeping on him?!" Hannah asked, scandalized. But not scandalized enough to stop watching.

"Oh no. I've just been watching this bit on repeat." Susan replied primly. "I just wanted to make sure Tonks got a good show."

"Right. Of course." Hannah replied distractedly.

* * *

_Sirius dueled Bellatrix Lestrange, their wands flashing like swords. He grinned mockingly at her as he deflected one of her spells._

_"That the best you can do?" He taunted her. A red spell struck him in the chest, and he fell backwards off the platform. He tumbled, wide eyed, into the standing arch. The veil hanging between the arch consumed him, and he vanished into darkness. Harry gaped in horror._

_"Sirius! SIRIUS!" He shouted. He ran to the arch, but Remus caught him. "Remus, I need to save him, I can't-!"_

"_No Harry, no," Remus said, sounding shaken. "He's gone... He's gone..."_

_Harry stared at the Veil as it waved softly in a non-existent breeze. The sounds of battle faded into the background. Remus too vanished, leaving Harry alone with the Veil. He watched it wave, as though desperately trying to see his godfather in the dark folds..._

"_I'm sorry, Harry," Dumbledore said, walking up alongside him. Harry blinked and stared at the aged figure of the Headmaster. He looked at the arch with a sigh. "The Veil is a doorway into the world of Death. It was used to execute criminals before the Dementors came under Ministry control." His aged eyes took in the Veil. "It was meant to be the perfect method of execution. No pain, no trauma... You go through it, and you are in Death..." He shook his head, looking so ancient it shocked Harry to his core._

_"Then he's gone forever...?" Harry stared at the arch. "Why am I so... So detached from this?"_

_"I suspect that talk with Luna Lovegood did you a lot of good, Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. His smile turned into a deep frown. "That or you're repressing your grief because that's kind of what you do. Bury your feelings. Such as those for Miss Granger when you saw Mr. Weasley was interested. Or your feelings of anger when Umbridge was torturing you. Or-"_

_"H-Hey! Hang on a second, how do you know all this?" Harry asked quickly. "I-I mean... What, did you read my mind?"_

_Dumbledore just smiled, and adjusted his half-moon glasses. "In a manner of speaking..."_

_The Sorting Hat appeared on Dumbledore's head, and gave Harry a disapproving look._

"_Stuffing me under a pillow, indeed! What, did you think I couldn't reach out to your mind through a bit of cheap polyester?"_

_Harry started, and stumbled backwards. "You-Get out of my head!" Harry shouted. The Hat frowned._

_"Potter, I thought we discussed this," the Hat said slowly. "You want a future, yes?"_

"_Well, yeah but-"_

"_But nothing! If you're going to win this thing, you need to use every resource at your disposal! And one of those is dreaming," the Hat said. "Time moves far faster in a dream. It has no meaning here. So we can cover a lot of things you need to know."_

_Harry nodded slowly, recovering his calm. "Could have warned me..."_

"_Oh, now the baby wants a warning before I poke around in your head?" The Hat asked mockingly, and Dumbledore rolled his eyes. "No wonder Dumbledore thinks he has to spell things out for you."_

"_How do you...?" Harry blinked in realization. "You've sat on his head."_

"_Ah, now you get the picture," the Hat said approvingly. "I have the memories of every person I've ever sat on. And plenty of them have done it extra times in order to learn something new, or recover something useful. I am a sapient pensieve, in other words." The Hat shrugged with its brim. _"_Or a sapient version of Google in a far more charming package."_

"_Google?" Harry asked. The Hat sighed._

"_Nevermind... We've got some work to do! So! Let's start with how Dumbledore would have trained you in Occlumency and Legimency," the Hat responded. "We've got a long road ahead of us so..." The Hat looked over to the side, and scowled. "Potter!"_

"_What?" Harry looked over to the side... And blushed. There sat Hermione in nothing more than a pair of glasses and a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ covering her chest. "Gah! I didn't mean for that to happen! It-it just does!"_

_"Tell Granger that in the morning then, Potter! Now, let us begin..."_

* * *

The smile on Molly's face froze after she'd opened her door. Her hand groped for the wand in her apron pocket.

"Good morning, Molly Weasley." Narcissa Malfoy said pleasantly. She seemed to be making no overtly threatening gestures, but her very presence seemed to be an immense, unspoken threat.

Molly Weasley sniffed as good manners forced her to respond, "And to you, Narcissa Malfoy. What brings you to my door?" And so early in the morning at that, she thought to herself. But not early enough that there would be anyone else at home.

Narcissa held her hands up, "I am alone and I come in peace, Molly. May I call you Molly?"

Molly grit her teeth at the other woman's shark-like smile, "If you must." She grumbled. "I have a busy day ahead of me, Mrs. Malfoy and I really can't take much time to entertain a guest."

"Of course," Narcissa replied politely, "With your business taking off as well as it has, I would imagine that you would need to be working hard."

Molly tensed once more, "Well, yes. A bit of luck and hard work have given us a chance to help our fellow Witches and wizards and make a few galleons." She continued defensively, "Nothing wrong with that!"

"Nothing at all," Narcissa continued soothingly. "Although from what I've heard it's more than just a 'few galleons'."

Molly eyed the woman suspiciously. They were roughly the same age, but hard living had made Molly feel so much older. Narcissa on the other hand, was still a fine figure of a woman after a life in the lap of luxury. "And what of it?"

"Oh, Molly," Narcissa tutted, "The past few weeks have been kind to you. The chances are good that it will continue to be so. I was just wondering if you'd given much thought to your future?"

Molly's suspicion spiked further, "Are you threatening me?!"

Narcissa sighed, "Molly, Molly, Molly… I am not my husband. And you aren't yours."

"Don't you say anything bad about my Arthur!" Molly shrieked belligerently

"And I didn't." Narcissa said slowly, finally growing exasperated, "Molly, you have come upon quite a windfall here. It would be safe to say that with your newfound wealth, you will need to consider your newfound social standing."

Molly stared in confusion at Narcissa, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"People have been watching, Molly. And people have been considering," Narcissa continued.

"Considering what?" The suspicion was back in her voice, but there was curiosity now.

"Your family has a long pureblood lineage." Narcissa replied, "Now you are coming into money. The sort of money that opens all sorts of doors." Narcissa gave the shorter woman a smile, "Have you considered the possibilities for your family's debut into high society? More specifically… your daughter's?"

Molly stared at Narcissa for a long moment, trying to determine if the other woman was making fun of her or not. "Pull the other one, Mrs. Malfoy. It's got bells on." She said finally. "We're not the type to give ourselves hoity-toity airs." She waggled a finger under Narcissa's nose, "And don't you be trying to make out that we are!"

"I would never." Narcissa replied, backing away slightly, "You're obviously well-grounded people. Salt of the earth."

Molly seemed to be slightly mollified by this, but her eyes stayed suspicious as she looked at Narcissa, "What does this have to do with our Ginny?"

"Well, Molly… were you aware that your daughter is dating?"

Molly sniffed, offended at the woman's implication that she didn't know what her daughter was doing. "Of course, I know."

"Do you know who she is dating?" Narcissa asked. There was that definite… trap being baited impression the woman was giving.

"Well, yes. His name's Dean Thomas." Molly replied haughtily, "Obviously not your sort. He's muggleborn. He's good to our Ginny."

"Really?" Narcissa asked, a smile slowly spreading over her face. "She told you she was dating a muggleborn."

Molly's frown deepened, "What are you getting at?! I've met the fellow. He's good looking. Upstanding sort. Seemed very polite. Minded his manners."

"Did you meet him, indeed?" Narcissa continued in that butter couldn't melt in my mouth sort of tone.

Molly's irritation had finally hit its limit, "What?! She's out on a date with him right this moment!"

"My goodness." Narcissa said, covering her mouth, "You didn't know then. I'm sorry."

"Didn't know about what?!" Molly screeched.

"Well, do you know where your daughter is now?" Narcissa asked innocently.

"I told you! She had a date with her boyfriend. They were going to have lunch and do some shopping in muggle London. She told me," Molly sniffed, looking down her nose at Narcissa. She glanced over her shoulder to the Weasley family clock that had recently been expanded to accommodate a few more settings when the twins had added Luna to it.

She noted with no small amount of amusement that Ron and Luna's hands kept swinging back and forth between 'Naughtiness' and 'Work' at the same time.

The clock quite clearly showed Ginny as being 'Eating'. She did frown as the arrow seemed to swing back and forth between that and one of the newly added locations, 'Naughtiness'.

Molly flushed as she realized Narcissa was also seeing that. "See? Having lunch right now, I imagine." She frowned at the clock, "And probably flirting."

Narcissa seemed even more pleased by this, which Molly just simply couldn't understand.

"What?!" Molly demanded.

"I must admit, I just don't know how to tell you." Narcissa said, "I admit, I didn't know about it myself until yesterday-"

"Know what?!"

"Well… your daughter's 'muggleborn' boyfriend, isn't quite as muggleborn as she's led you to believe."

Molly blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, as it happened, I caught sight of her with her boyfriend yesterday." She sighed, "Given my family's history with yours, I must admit, it caught me off guard. It also explains why she might not have told anyone."

"What business of yours is it who my daughter is dating?! Honestly, I heard all you aristocrat types tended to get into all sorts of gossip, but this is a bit excessive!"

"I know exactly who she's dating, Molly Weasley and it is, in fact my business." Narcissa sniffed back haughtily.

Molly gave her a hard stare. "What? You're not going to tell me our Ginny's dating your Draco are you? Every story I've heard of him so far's made him out to be a bit of a tit."

Narcissa sighed, "He's actually a lot of a tit. Honestly, I blame his father. He does seem to be improving, though."

Molly stare turned from hard to confused. "Y-you… I mean… my Ginny and your Draco?!"

"I was as shocked as you were," Narcissa admitted.

"That's impossible," Molly stated flatly.

"I thought so too, but Draco's been so strange lately. So distant from me ever since he started living away from home." Naricssa admitted, "I thought he was just growing up. Starting to stretch his wings. So many changes in him... but then again," Narcissa continued slyly, "It's been said that the love of a good woman can do that to a young man."

"I don't believe you!" The Weasley Matriarch sputtered, but a tiny, traitorous part of her mind pointed her at Ron and Luna... she would be one of the first to admit that her youngest boy had disappointed her rather a bit more than her other children had, but ever since they'd gotten married...

"It is true." Narcissa said simply.

"Your son must have used a love potion or something!" Molly accused.

"Well, you would be the expert on that, wouldn't you?" Narcissa murmured.

"What was that?!" Molly growled coldly.

"I can show you where they're having lunch." Narcissa said brightly, hurriedly steering the conversation to her intended destination.

"Fine!" Molly grabbed a shawl from a peg by the door and arranged it hurriedly on herself before roughly shouldering Narcissa out of her way . "Let's go!"

"Indeed," Narcissa replied smoothly as she followed Molly.

* * *

"You're certain about the Dark Lord's plans?" Snape pressed

"Yes. He's building this... this... thing. It is as impressive as it is terrifying." Lucius said as he paced.

"In Surrey? Really? He's actually taking the fight to Potter?"

"Why are you doubting me now, Severus?" Lucius asked peevishly.

"It just seems... unusually direct for the Dark Lord, isn't it?"

Lucius stiffened, "Blame the new Loremaster. Our Lord has taken to listening to him more and more often now."

Snape nodded distractedly.

Lucius threw his head back and chugged the bottle of headache potion that Snape had given him. "I apologize for talking your ear off, Severus. It's just... it's been very strange with the Master now. All these new books and ideas. If I didn't know better I'd almost imagine the Dark Lord were embracing the muggle world, but that's ridiculous."

"Absolutely," Snape assured the man.

"I'll see myself out. I thank you for hearing me out."

"Think nothing of it, Lucius."

"And thank you for the headache potion."

"Of course." Snape inclined his head as the Floo flared green and Lucius stepped through.

Snape tapped his fingers on his desk for a long moment. Finally coming to a decision he picked up the phone on his desk and began to dial.

After a few rings a voice replied.

"Yes. This is Severus Snape. I've made a decision about those warehouse facilities. I'll be taking the location in Little Whinging."

There was a reply.

"Yes. I will not be requiring the other location." Snape smirked, "I will be by shortly to sign the paperwork."

Another reply.

"I will be requiring insurance along with the rental agreement papers. Yes. The absolute maximum you have available."

* * *

"My family kept a greenhouse in the south wing of the manor for generations," Neville explained, as he led Luna and Ron through the long hallways of Longbottom Manor. Ron was barely able to focus on what Neville was saying-Even with the space enchantments, this manor was at least... Twenty times the size of the Burrow! Even bigger! And all this stuff decorating the walls! All these ancient tapestries, suits of armor, paintings of ancient Longbottom ancestors!

It was never something he'd associated with Neville. The shy, round faced boy with a talent for gardening, growing up... _Here?_

"Nobody could get it going though," Neville spoke into Ron's thoughts. The Weasley shook his head free of distraction and paid attention to his friend. His friend with the huge arse mansion...

"Not until you though?" Luna asked, tilting her head gently. Neville smiled brightly at Luna, and there was a flush of pride in his cheeks.

"Ah, yeah... Turns out Professor Sprout had a few ideas, and I had a few of my own, and, well..." They came to a glass doorway, decorated with ironwork vines that writhed as though alive. He opened the doors, and swung them open. Ron and Luna blinked in response to the bright sunshine, but as their vision adjusted their eyes widened.

Fields of crops, giant ones, grew underneath the giant glass canopy. Bees buzzed and all manner of small birds and bats flitted around the flowering bits. In the center, hanging from the canopy was a bright light. It resembled the sun, but was held up by strings. Neville rubbed the back of his head, feeling self conscious as his friends looked at him in awe.

"So... What do you think?" Neville asked. Ron grinned brightly.

"What, you had any doubt we'd say yes?" He asked. "This is _brilliant!_ I mean, look at all that!" He waved his hand over the greenhouse. "This is... Cor blimey Neville, why didn't you tell us you had this place? You had this manor and all this... This stuff?!"

Neville looked aside, nervous again. "Because... Because I didn't want you to think any differently of me," he said quietly. Ron goggled at him. He felt a hand on his arm, and looked into Luna's eyes. The blonde shook her head softly, and gave him a sad smile. Ron frowned, feeling a bit ashamed... Before he found his courage and adopted a determined grin.

"You nutter," Ron said, "I'd have never thought any differently about you!" He grinned. "I mean... You're even better than I thought! So I guess my thoughts about you have changed, but... But in a good way, not a bad way, and..." Ron shook his head, and sighed. "What I'm saying is... Ya know when Harry and I said you were worth ten of Malfoy back in first year?"

Neville smiled, still nervous. "Yeah..."

"We were seriously underselling it, mate," Ron said in utter sincerity. "I mean, if I had this kind of stuff I'd be lording it over everybody!"

"Until I gently pointed out he would be much like Draco," Luna said. Ron flushed.

"Er... Yeah. But the point remains! You're great!" He held out his hand. Neville stared at it for a second, before he smiled and grasped it back. They shook firmly.

"So! How do we get started? I mean, what kinds of products do you have for sale?" Ron asked. Neville looked over at Luna with a soft smile.

"Ah... I was kind of hoping I could talk to Luna first," Neville admitted. "I mean, so we could work out advertising in the Quibbler. I know the Lovegoods do sell ad space and I was thinking-"

"Weasley," Luna corrected. Neville blinked.

"Weasley?"

"Yes, I am Luna Weasley now," Luna said. She sighed and squeezed Ron's hand. "We were married in extremely romantic surroundings."

Ron coughed, his ears going bright red. "Ah... Well, I wouldn't call it romantic but-"

"You're _married?!"_ Neville squawked in disbelief. "But-But-But-!"

"It was entirely unnecessary, but we're trying to make it work," Luna said cheerfully. Neville's face fell.

"Oh... I-I see," Neville mumbled. He turned to the doors. "Well... Congratulations," he mumbled. "Come on, let's go."

He walked into the greenhouse, Ron and Luna slowly following. Ron was, by his nature, not particularly sensitive but he'd just seen Neville's mood shoot up and then take a Wronski Feint right into the ground. He frowned as he looked back and forth between the depressed Neville and the content Luna.

_I'm missing something here,_ he thought to himself. _Well... I should be able to figure it out. I'm not that thick._

"Shut up Hermione," he muttered. Luna blinked at him.

"What?"

"What? Oh, um... Just... Reflex," Ron said.

* * *

_"Legilimens!"_

A flurry of thoughts crossed through Harry's mind, and he caught the thread of interest in the Hat's search-Shame, anger... He grimaced and focused...

_Shame... Shame... Something simple I feel shame over...!_

_My threadbare clothes in first year...!_ The thoughts stayed at that level of inane, and Harry managed to regain his focus. As though the memories were a film playing in the background-Something he didn't have to pay attention to if he chose not to. Harry pulled out his wand in the mindscape, and pointed it at the representation of Dumbledore.

_"Legilimens!"_ He cast... And Harry found himself regretting it almost immediately. Memories flew past his mind's eye so fast he couldn't make much sense of them. Views of Hogwarts from the outside at every angle. Quidditch games, monsters, uprisings, masses of people...!

"Woah! Slow down, Potter!" The Hat cried, and the flood of memories ceased. Harry groaned and rubbed his temples.

"Ow... That was... Argh...!" He mumbled. "How does it hurt so much in a dream...?"

"That was psychic backlash, Potter," the Hat replied. Harry looked up, and there was a proud look on the aged leather face of the construct. "I was just keeping it to Dumbledore's memories, but you just plowed on through and tried to get at _all_ of mine!" The Hat shook... It's head? Harry guessed, not really sure how to classify such expressions for a hat. "You're not exactly subtle, but you've got a lot of potential!"

"Ugh, yeah," Harry mumbled. "I just... I'm not really certain how useful this is going to be."

"Oh?" The Hat asked dryly. "Reading minds? Not useful, Potter?"

"I didn't say that," Harry said, holding up his hands. "It's plenty useful! But in... I dunno, a fight? I'm not sure how much utility I'll get out of it."

"Well, if you're just going to wave your wand around and shout the spell, not much," the Hat commented. "But surely you remember the duel between Dumbledore and Riddle in the Atrium?"

Harry's face darkened. His memories rippled into existence around them. There, as before, Dumbledore and Voldemort were exchanging spell fire. Pulling out all the stops, the sheer _force_ of the magical energies involved made it feel like he was going to be crushed. He watched them carefully, and his frown changed tone to one of curiosity.

"Their eyes," he murmured. "They're... Kind of like Snape's."

"Yes," the Hat said, nodding in approval from a statue in the atrium this time. "The power of Legilimency and Occlumency is not limited to simply _protecting_ your mind, but actively shaping your magic." The statues came to life, and charged into battle. The Hat kept talking even as the centaur he was atop galloped to shield the other Harry in the memory. Harry watched, his past self's face contorted in pain and shock...

"You see, if you can master your mind, you can shape your magic," the Hat continued. "Silent casting is made far easier with Occlumency. It allows you to shape your will, command magic to act as you wish rather than having to remember every spell. As long as you know how the magic _feels_ in your mind, you can command it!"

Voldemort unleashed a fiery serpent, which Dumbledore blocked with the water from the Atrium's fountain. He turned it into ice, and spears shot out in a shower at Voldemort. The Dark Lord again resorted to flame, and blocked the strike. He unleashed a blast of lightning, and Dumbledore was struck by the blast head on, blown off the fountain to the marble floor. Harry gasped.

"Wait! That didn't happen!"

"No, it did not," the Hat said, and the view shifted to one of Dumbledore apparating away from the fountain and using lightning on Voldemort. "But Dumbledore's mind was able to envision the outcome of such a choice. Quickly enough to see it would have been a bad one."

"He can speed up his thought processes? With Occlumency?" Harry asked, now fascinated despite the emotional pain the scene brought him. The Hat chuckled as one of the statues was blown apart by a Killing Curse.

"Indeed! Organizing your thoughts to move faster is something you can learn to do with Occlumency. You can make your mind into both an impenetrable fortress, and a fast moving machine!"

Dumbledore let loose with a series of spells and counter spells, moving so fast Harry remembered this part of the duel as little more than flashes of light. Like someone had set up a rave in the middle of the Atrium. With Dumbledore's fashion choices, he supposed it wasn't that big a leap.

"On the other side, _Legilimency_ permits you to sense the intentions of others," the Hat continued, as the floor shuddered and shook underneath the magical tempest the two great wizards were unleashing. "Even passively, it lets you sense stray thoughts and emotions from others. Even Riddle is unable to keep every single thought and idea behind his mental defenses. A stray emotion can give away what he intends next. Even those you cannot see."

"So basically, I could keep from getting ambushed?" Harry asked in amazement. "I could know so much... Do so much..."

"Yes, you could," the Hat said. "I think you've got the potential, Potter. Or at least the sheer stubbornness to keep at it until you can manage it."

Harry frowned. "But... Could I match Voldemort?"

"Well we're not going to find out if you keep asking that," the Hat said flatly.

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

"Now, the good news is that both Legilimency and Occlumency are subtle enough you can practice it and the Ministry won't give two hippogriff humps about it," the Hat said cheerfully. "So! With me atop your head, we can find all sorts of ways to practice."

"So... Why didn't Snape train me in this way?" Harry asked. The Hat snorted.

"Because he's a wizard."

"And Dumbledore-"

"Wizard."

"And me-?"

"Merely an idiot right now," the Hat said. "If you'd kept on like this a bit longer, you'd have become a wizard too."

Harry stared, deadpan at the talking piece of fabric. "I really can't find it in myself to argue with you."

"Good! Now wake up, we've got a full day of awkwardness and sexy hijinks to get through!" The Hat grinned. "And frankly, I'm looking forward to it!"

"What?!" Harry gasped.

"Oh come on! I've sat on the heads of thousands of preteens!" The Hat said. "What the bloody hell do you _think_ most of them had on their minds?"

Harry sighed. "Again... Can't find it in myself to argue with you..."

* * *

Meanwhile, later that afternoon, with Molly and Narcissa:

- - -  
Molly Weasley sniffled into a handkerchief. The cup of tea cooling slowly in front of her. "I just can't believe that she would've lied to me like that." Molly said tearfully.

"There, there…" Narcissa patted the other woman on the back sympathetically. She was just short of rolling her eyes at the woman's overblown dramatics. She'd practically had to body bind her to keep her from rushing into the restaurant and making a scene.

They were now sitting beneath a brightly colored umbrella in an outdoor cafe on the southern side of Diagon Alley the Narcissa favored. The elegant woman sipped her own tea with her free hand. "I suppose it must have been a bit of a surprise to you, you poor dear…"

"'A bit of a surprise'?!" Molly echoed indignantly, "Your husband all but kills my little girl and now your son is seducing her and that's all you have to say?!"

Narcissa gave Molly a level look, "Were you watching the same intimate luncheon I was? Because it looked like all the competent flirting seemed to be coming from your daughter."

Molly was unable to suppress a small laugh, "He did seem kind of distracted the whole time they were eating."

"Well, your daughter did manage to set off her ensemble quite fetchingly," Narcissa admitted.

"She did look pretty, yes." Molly frowned a bit, "Except none of those were what she was wearing when she left the house."

"So she changed after she left," Narcissa blithely shrugged. "Obviously she wanted to wear something nice for her date."

"And scandalously short, I noticed." Molly huffed.

"Draco certainly noticed."

Molly giggled again. "It was almost cute how he kept looking like he was trying to swallow his tongue, I suppose."

"Which is precisely what I am talking about," Narcissa said, with a gesture. "I love Draco to distraction. He's my son. How could I not?"

Molly on firmer ground with the topic on motherhood nodded agreeably. "Even if he is a bit of a tit. I know the feeling."

"Exactly." Narcissa leaned in closer, "I will be honest with you, Molly. I was very worried for how Draco would fare once Lucius was no longer around to bail him out of trouble."

"So what's all that got to do with what you were talking about earlier and my little girl, hmm?" Molly asked.

"The first glimmerings of drive and competence I've ever seen from my boy appear to have been brought out of him by your Ginny," Narcissa said carefully. "Molly, don't you see? Your daughter could well be the only chance my son has of moving beyond being a complete narcissistic imbecile!"

Molly looked at the other woman carefully and replied, "Well, I guess I can't really fault your boy's taste." She looked as though she'd bitten into something sour, "Although I can my girl's bad judgement. You're happy to keep talking about how this is good for him, but what about my Ginny, hmm? How happy is she going to be as Draco Malfoy's leash?"

Narcissa smiled sadly, "Come now… Molly, look at your family. Your boys are all practically grown men, making their own way in the world. I don't imagine it will be much longer and you'll have the Burrow just to yourself and Arthur… save for Ginny."

"I'm not marrying off my little girl like one of you nose-in-the-air society types. We're decent people." Molly shot back fiercely.

"Yet, I understand your husband made such an arrangement with the Lovegood family?" Narcissa smiled politely, but the sarcasm was heavy in her tone.

"That was Arthur being premature about things!" Molly snapped.

Narcissa replied in a much more reasonable tone, "Ginny could do far worse than Draco. He's good looking, personable… under the right circumstances… charming… when he remembers to be… well-groomed, well-dressed, and wealthy. If nothing else, backed by the Malfoy fortune, your daughter would want for nothing."

Molly sniffed, "There's more to life than money. And we've got our own now, thank you very much. I'd think my little girl is more than capable of making her own way."

"Well, there is a bit more to the Malfoys than just money, Molly. The family name will open doors for her. Opportunities to be anything she might want." Narcissa pressed.

Molly eyed her, "You're really dead set on getting your boy married to my girl?"

"You saw them. Don't they look like they are getting along famously?" Narcissa pounced, sensing the other woman weakening.

Molly glowered, "That still don't change that your family serves You-Know-Who."

"My husband does." Narcissa said with emphasis. She sighed, "You know how it is with some men. They get an idea in their heads and they just can't seem to let it go."

Molly returned the sigh, remembering her own husband's obsession with muggle artifacts, "I hear you."

"Lucius has just been so caught up in the whole," She sighed, waving her hands around vaguely. "Mystique of his service. The excitement. The chance to change the world," She gestured dismissively, "The 'glamour'."

"The ruthless murders and dark magic?" Molly pointed out sarcastically.

"That too." Narcissa admitted. "And your daughter would keep my son out of that. She's seems far too Gryffindor not too."

"My daughter isn't there to keep your son from going to the Death Eaters." Molly glowered.

"Well, she seems to be managing it anyway," Narcissa replied primly. "I'm just saying that we really should consider formalizing something that they obviously want already."

Molly grumbled to herself for a long moment then admitted aloud, "They did seem to be enjoying themselves didn't they?"

"Very much so." Narcissa agreed.

"I'm still not entirely sold on the idea of it." Molly said. "Your family's dark as can be, you have to admit that. Not just your husband."

"The Blacks were always willing to be a bit on the darker side, but you can't judge a person only by their family. I admit, one of my sisters is an insane murderess… but the other one is a muggle-loving housewife… granted she got kicked out of the family, but still. Even though some Blacks went with the Dark Lord during his rise, you've also got the one who went against him." Narcissa spread her hands out. "I know your husband dislikes mine immensely, but you can't tar all the Malfoys with the same brush."

Molly looked at Narcissa suspiciously.

"Lucius may think the Dark Lord is a path to success, but we had far more prosperity and happiness the whole time he was gone than we do now. Nor when he rose the first time around." Narcissa sighed, taking another sip of her tea, "Lucius just wants to relive some of his 'glory days' when he and his friends would be out gallivanting at all hours-"

"And killing people!" Molly added sharply.

"And that." Narcissa agreed. "I don't want any of that for Draco. He seems to have become so much more used to the muggle world, it's uncanny. Far more comfortable than Lucius would ever have allowed him to be if he weren't so busy doing who knows what."

"So you really want this?" Molly asked carefully. "Your Draco and our Ginny?"

"It would be a good match. And they do like each other," Narcissa pointed out. "Plus, you know Draco comes from good stock."

Molly snorted dismissively.

"Pretty stock," Narcissa said with a pleased grin. "Think of the grandchildren."

"... ooooh." Molly's eyes turned sparkly, "They would be pretty wouldn't they?"

At that point, Narcissa knew she had her.

* * *

_Still coming... Mwahahaha..._


	14. Chapter 14

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

"Oh… oh, Merlin. It's huge." Ginny murmured, not quite sure what to do with her hands, there was just so much to touch and she didn't know if she was allowed to.

"It can be a little intimidating at first, I suppose, but one gets used to it." Draco replied smugly.

"I love it," She gushed eagerly. "It's just a surprise seeing it… I mean not even any expansion charms?"

"Does it look like it needs it?"

"Mmm… no." She admitted.

He took firm hold of the length between them shifted it into position. The answering… approving… purr was all he needed to hear to get things going.

She groaned as a wave of pleasure ran up her spine at the movement. "I… oh, Merlin… I didn't even know. How do you know how to…?"

"Practice." His voice was still smug, but the clear and obvious relish he took in what he was doing… the pleasure in his eyes was just making the experience better for her.

"Can… can we go faster?" She whispered.

He grinned, shifting slightly before driving even harder.

She gasped as the rush hit and her voice was a breathy purr as she called out, "More!"

"Are you sure you can handle more?" He smirked at her. Still the arrogant condescending git, but he was in the driver's seat. She was entirely at his mercy.

"Yes!" She gasped.

He gave her more.

She groaned aloud, "I can't believe I'm doing this with you!"

The Audi pulled into the car lot and came to a smooth stop.

Draco stepped out, seemingly unperturbed, straightening his tie. His hair was not quite as pristine as it could be, having fallen into disarray. He reached a hand up to comb the hair out of his eyes.

Ginny stepped out of the passenger side looking wild-eyed and breathless. Her face was flushed as she smoothed down her skirts. "Again." She chirped happily at Draco.

He grinned at her dishabille. "Now you understand."

"That… was the most incredible thing… I have ever experienced in my life." She replied, staggering around the silver car towards Draco. "My father's Anglia was nothing like that."

Draco sniffed arrogantly, "You can't possibly be comparing your father's car… a car, I might point out that went feral and is now living in the Forbidden Forest with the glory," His eyes seemed to glow with a zealot's intensity, "of the Audi R8."

Ferdinand, an older, well-dressed man who had a pin on his lapel proclaiming him to be a 'Audi Sales Associate', stepped closer to the pair. "So, good test drive, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco reluctantly… very reluctantly… handed the keys back to Ferdinand. "Y-yes. It… I am going to own that very soon." He replied.

"And I look forward to letting you have it, sir." Ferdinand remarked cheerfully. "Wanted to show it to the girlfriend? Give her a taste?"

"Girlf-" Draco blinked.

He glanced over to the still dazed Ginny who kept running her hands over the car's roof murmuring over and over, "So huge… so fast… go good…"

"We aren't- I mean-" Draco sputtered.

"Ah." Ferdinand grinned knowingly and tapped the side of his nose, "Say no more, sir." He straightened up, "Same time next week?"

"Yes, of course." Draco managed to weakly reply, taking hold of Ginny's arm. Ginny in her turn didn't seem to want to leave the car.

She then whirled on him, her eyes sparking as she met his. "I want in." She said firmly.

"Beg pardon?" He asked.

Her eyes bored into his. "Whatever you're doing? Your business? Whatever it is? I want in."

"Why would you-?"

"I. Want. One." She said firmly, pointing at the car with her free hand.

He smiled in understanding. "Then we have a lot more work ahead of us."

* * *

Harry woke up first, as usual. The sun was barely peeking out over the houses on the east side of the block, and he stretched up over his head with a yawn. He pulled on a T-shirt and jeans from a shopping bag. Admittedly, it was nice to wear clothing that fit. But the itchiness of new clothing was something he hadn't expected, and after a few good scratches he headed down stairs.

_Morning Potter,_ the Hat said to him. Harry yawned.

_Morning Hat. Huh... Something smells like it's burning..._

He wondered if Petunia was trying to cook breakfast. It was entirely possible, despite how absurdly out of practice she was.

He entered the kitchen, wandering over towards the stove to turn off the range and get things started. His ingress was interrupted by someone warm, soft and Hermione shaped.

"Oof!" Harry muttered, as did Hermione. He looked up at his best friend. She was wearing one of his aprons, and beaming at him.

"Morning Harry!" She said cheerfully. She held up a spatula. "How are you?"

"Uh... Fine," Harry said. He looked at the stove, which was covered in pots, grills, and pans that were bubbling or smoking away. "Er... What's all this? Potions project?"

"Oh no, I did that months ago," Hermione said, waving her hand. "I'm cooking you breakfast."

Harry blinked. "You're... Cooking me breakfast?" Harry asked slowly. Hermione flushed.

"Yes... What? What's wrong with that?" She asked flatly. "You don't think I can do it?"

"Uh..." Harry shook his head. "It isn't that, I'm just a little surprised. That's all."

"Hey, it's the least I can do for you after putting up with Parkinson," Hermione said. "Not to mention all this other stuff. I-I just..." She held her oven mitt covered hands together with a smile. "I want to do this."

Harry blinked a few times, and shrugged. "All right..." He slowly walked over to the table, and sat down at it. "Where are the Dursleys?"

"Parkinson's got them distracted," Hermione said quickly. Harry snorted.

"How'd you convince her to do that?"

"I uh... I have my ways," Hermione said modestly.

_Wonder if she just murdered them all and hid them under the floorboards,_ the Hat said. _It would explain the smell... Oh no wait, she's cooking. My mistake._

_Why hasn't she noticed you?_ Harry asked with a frown, reaching up to grip the Hat. He found nothing but empty air over his head, and blinked. _Oh... Legilimency?_

_Bingo, Potter,_ the Hat said. _Well, why not figure out how she got them to leave?_

_I could ask,_ Harry pointed out, as Hermione yelped at one of her pots boiling over.

"Ack! Damnit! Wrong one, wrong one!" Hermione cried, turning down the heat. Another pot rattled ominously and Hermione yelped. "Eep! What's wrong with you now?!"

_Yes, but she seems a bit distracted,_ the Hat suggested. _Go on. Low power mode. _

_She'll be mad._

_Point out you'll teach it to her too, and then she'll be mollified,_ the Hat suggested.

Harry focused his mind, and concentrated. He narrowed his eyes at the fretting Hermione, and opened his mind.

"_Legilimens,"_ he muttered.

Memories involving _Hermione, Pansy, _and _The Dursleys_ flashed before his eyes. Her taking the Knight Bus to his location, seeing him in the Mall, coming home, talking with Pansy in the bedroom...

_"Look, I'll make breakfast for him,"_ Hermione said in the memory, sounds coming clearly to him. "_Nothing big. Just something simple. He deserves a break."_

_"Playing little miss housemaker already, Granger?"_ Pansy teased.

_"Well, you could always give it a try,"_ Hermione said flatly. _"You should know how to cook just fine... With your _wand."

Pansy looked thoughtful... And then nodded. "_All right. You're going to owe me for this, Granger."_

_"As if I had any doubt,"_ Hermione replied.

Harry let go, and shuddered. Hermione had stood still in front of the stove. Harry cleared his throat.

"Ah... Hermione? You okay?" He asked. Hermione started.

"Ah? Oh, I'm fine Harry. Just... Mind wandered and-OH GOD!" She yanked a smoking pan off the stove, and ran it under the faucet. She coughed as smoke filled the kitchen. The smoke alarm soon began to blare. Harry rose, feeling guilty, as he looked at the morose Hermione.

"Damnit! I thought I-I had it all timed to the second and now everything's ruined!" She groaned. She dropped the pan in the sink with a sigh, and looked down. "Sorry Harry... This is really, I mean..."

"Hey, hey, it's all right," Harry said, squeezing one of her shoulders. "It's all right! I mean, how often have you cooked before?"

"..." Hermione mumbled something. Harry blinked.

"What?"

"... Never," she said quietly. Harry blinked... And laughed. He hugged the scowling Hermione.

"Harry! This-This isn't-!"

"Relax Hermione," Harry said with a smile. "I'm just... I'm happy you did this for me. Really. Nobody's ever cooked for me before, except Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione flushed. "Maybe I should have asked her for some advice. I thought it would just be like potions but..." She closed her eyes tightly. "It's... It's just cooking, right?"

Harry frowned at Hermione's depression, and he understood it perfectly: And failing at something was anathema to the brightest witch of her year. Harry looked at the smoking bacon, and sighed. He reached down, picked up a piece of the charcoal black meat covered in water... And took a bite. Hermione watched. He chewed, slowly. And then swallowed.

"S-See? Not... Not bad," Harry managed to gasp. Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

"You _hate_ it."

"N-No I don't!" Harry said. He reached down and took up more of the charred bacon. "In fact... Uh... I'll just... Have the rest!"

"You really don't have to, Harry," Hermione said, as Harry began spooning some burnt oatmeal into a bowl. He grinned and shook his head.

"Come on... It's fine! I don't want to waste your hard work! I mean... I'm so..." He hid his grimace as he took a bite of the oatmeal. "H-Hungry..."

Hermione continued to give him a deadpan stare. "You can barely keep from retching."

"Y-Yummy..."

"That toast is charcoal now!"

"L-Love it... Burnt..."

"Harry, stop eating right now or I'm calling an ambulance!"

Harry grimaced. "Oh... Fine."

She sighed, and blushed a bit. He had to admit, it suited her very well. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"That was very sweet though," she admitted. Harry smiled back at her.

"Good... Ah... So, if you'll excuse me," and Harry ran for the bathroom, hand over his mouth. Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"Making a deal with Parkinson, what was I thinking?" She muttered. "I need some real advice..."

* * *

Harry checked the driveway after he got finished his his "breakfast". The Dursley's car was gone, and a quick search of their bedrooms indicated several sets of clothing were also missing. Their luggage was gone too. He felt a little grin coming to his face as he came down to Hermione, who was cleaning up the remains of her experiment.

"Looks like Pansy convinced them to go on vacation," Harry said with a grin. Hermione sighed.

"Looks that way," she agreed. She frowned a bit. "I worry though."

"You do?" Harry asked. "About them?"

"Well," and here Hermione huffed, shoving the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. She closed it with a kick. "A little. What if she convinced them to drown themselves or something?"

Harry frowned and rubbed his chin. Hermione glared at him.

"I mean... In _principle..._ That would be bad," she said.

"Yes. In principle," Harry agreed.

_Ooh, she's got a bloodthirsty streak doesn't she?_ The Hat commented. _She didn't have that when I sat on her head. Good on you for bringing it out._

Harry chose to ignore this, and looked out the window. He saw a cab pull up, and a familiar dark haired girl emerge. He watched her approach the house, looking tired.

The door opened, and slammed shut. A moment later Pansy appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, sighing. Harry absently noticed a slight bruise on her cheek, and frowned.

"You all right?"

"Good morning to you too, Potter," Pansy said. "Well, that was irritating."

"What'd you do?" Hermione asked with a frown. "Convince them to drown themselves?"

"No," Pansy said, tugging on her earring, "I just convinced them to pack up and leave. Take an impromptu vacation, as it were."

Harry grinned. "Really?"

_Read her mind, find out,_ the Hat suggested. Harry focused again, eyes locked onto Pansy's.

"_Legilimens,"_ he murmured, and in a flash he got a shot of Pansy over Vernon's bed. His uncle and aunt were sleeping, and Pansy leaned over to whisper in Vernon's ear.

"_You want to get out of the house right now and go on vacation thanks to that lovely gold you now have,"_ she said.

"_I-zzz-want to get out of the house right now and go on vacation thanks to that lovely gold I now have,"_ Vernon repeated. He rose, swinging his arm widely and catching Pansy in the cheek. The girl went down with a yelp, and hit the floor. "_Petunia dear! Wake up! We're going on vacation!"_

The spell ended, and Pansy groaned as she rubbed her bruised temple.

"The bloody hell...?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Potter... Did you use Legilimency on me just now?"

Harry coughed. "Ah..."

Hermione gave Harry a shocked look. "Harry!" She gasped.

"Well, um, the Hat suggested I practice on you two," Harry said contritely. "And that it would be better to be taken unawares..."

_I didn't say that, but good effort on covering your arse, Potter,_ the Hat said. Hermione looked outraged. Pansy blinked a few times, and shrugged.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" She asked.

"WHAT?!" Hermione shrieked. "You-You've been practicing reading my _mind?!"_

"Er... I just looked for what happened between you and Pansy, I swear!" Harry said, hands held up.

"It's something he has to figure out, Granger," Pansy said. She grinned. "Unless he went poking around for your naughty fantasies~..."

"I-I cannot believe you, Harry James Potter!" Hermione snarled. "I went to-to all this and you-OOH!" She stormed off, leaving Harry in a bit of shock and Pansy with a slight smirk. Harry looked over at Pansy in disbelief.

"You... You're fine with me-?" Harry asked. Pansy huffed.

"I told you, Potter! Only an idiot would fully trust me! And you verified that I didn't off your relatives, right?"

Harry frowned. "Well... Not completely-"

"Then go ahead," Pansy said. "Make sure I didn't."

"But Hermione-"

"Let her cool off first," Pansy said. "Come on, go ahead."

Harry frowned. _Hat, how can I tell if she has occlumency training?_

_I can handle that, give it a go,_ the Hat replied.

Harry narrowed his eyes and locked his gaze with Pansy's. _Legilimens!_

Memories flashed through Harry's mind, related to Pansy, Voldemort, and himself. He saw several times they'd fought over the years, several memories involving her watching him from around corners and across the Great Hall at meals... Her parents speaking with Voldemort, as she listened through a cracked door due to her heart pounding terror... Her getting out of her home and running... Using her earring to get into a Muggle Thrift shop and buy clothes... Running into him, her heart pounding in surprise... Following the Dursleys to see that they got to the airport, making sure they got there just fine...

"Nngh!" Harry broke contact, rubbing his temples. Pansy's knees shook. Harry's Seeker reflexes kicked in, and he sprinted to catch her before she collapsed. He helped her to a nearby chair, as they both panted for breath.

"Haa... Haa... Haa," Harry gasped. "I... So..."

"So... It... Yeah," Pansy mumbled, rubbing her bruised cheek. They stared at each other for a long moment. Harry bit his lower lip.

"You okay?" He managed. Pansy sighed.

"Yeah... But having you pull all that up..." She shook her head. "How did Granger not notice?"

"She didn't know, I guess," Harry said. "And my search was very limited and specific. You uh... I guess I got a little too general."

"Well, if you wanted to poke around in my mind, I could have shown you to some nice memories and fantasies," Pansy said, managing to slip back into her seductive voice again. Harry's face turned bright red, and he stood up.

_Hat?_

_Everything's in order. No signs of tampering I can see,_ the Hat said. Harry nodded.

_Good._ He turned to head upstairs, but felt Pansy's hand clasp his wrist.

"Hang on," Pansy said. "She's angry with you. Let me talk to her first."

"But... She _hates_ you," Harry said in disbelief. Pansy sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but she's angry with you and I'm a _girl,"_ she explained. Harry blinked a few times.

"... What does that have to do with it?"

"And this is why nobody would confuse you with a girl, Harry," Pansy said with a smirk. "Just wait here, all right?" She grasped his shoulders and pushed him down into a chair. She then headed upstairs. Harry watched her go and shook his head.

_Hat? Any insights here?_

_Boy, I'm here to help you defeat Voldemort, not sort out your love life,_ the Hat replied.

_Can't it be both?_

_No._

_Bugger!_

_Language, Potter!_

* * *

Pansy found Hermione upstairs in the Portaparment, curled up on her bed. She sniffled a bit, her face buried in her arms. Pansy sighed and sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Hermione looked up, and scowled through red eyes.

"Go away."

"No," Pansy said. Hermione scowled.

"I will _taze _you."

"Don't taze me, Granger," Pansy said, holding up a hand. "Look, he probably just saw you getting me to agree to get the Muggles out of the way. Where's the shame in that?"

"He didn't tell me!" She growled. "He just... Just up and violated my mind like that!"

"And? What's in there that you wouldn't want him to find out?" Pansy asked. She rolled her eyes. "Aside from the fact you Gryfindors are hopeless at expressing your feelings-"

"Shut up!" Hermione snarled, shoving Pansy off the bed. She flopped to the floor and stared up in shock. Hermione glared death down at her.

"You have been pissing me off from the moment we met!" She snarled. "Running your mouth, lording over how inbred you are, and then when you're out on your arse you expect us to help you?!"

Pansy stayed silent as Hermione got into a rant.

"This ridiculous embargo has-It's like it's ruined everything! No! This ridiculous nonsense with Voldemort and Purebloods and everything! You can unlock the secrets of the universe! You can make things come into being with a word and a thought and you waste all this on-on petty fights over who married who!" Tears were stinging the corners of her eyes. "And I'm surrounded by this wonder and majesty and... And...!"

"And?" Asked Harry. Both girls started and looked at the door. Harry stood there, head bent down, his hands behind his back contritely. Hermione sniffled and wiped her nose.

"And... And all I can think about is how stupid this all is, and how ridiculous I am for-for feeling like this over a boy who didn't... Didn't...!" She looked down, holding back her cries. Harry walked over to her, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She began to cry into his chest, though she added a few slams of her fists to it. Pansy stood up, and sat on the other bed as she watched.

"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said, stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry... I just..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I want to protect you... And Ron, and..." He looked over at Pansy, and smiled a little. "And Pansy, and everybody else from Voldemort. I want to get stronger. I want to be good enough to survive... And win."

Hermione laughed softly, and looked up into his face. "You... You idiot," she said flatly. "Isn't that what you have me for?"

"Yes," Harry admitted softly. "I-I couldn't have done anything without you... But I want to do just as much for you. I'm not brilliant, Hermione, but I want to be strong." He blushed, and looked aside. "I mean... You know... So you can point me in the right direction."

Hermione flushed.

"Is that all you want me for?" She asked softly. Harry blushed heavily. Pansy, seeing the moment was almost perfect, cleared her throat loudly. Both Gryffindors looked over at her. Harry in embarrassment, Hermione in annoyance.

"As glad as I am you've made up," Pansy said, "I wouldn't mind getting repaid for my favor, Granger."

Hermione scowled. "You couldn't just wait for... For a few-?"

"Oh, what, so you two can mince words and stumble over each other before walking off awkwardly?" Pansy asked sarcastically. "Gryffindor courage my perfect arse."

Harry coughed heavily. Hermione growled.

"Look, go be awkward somewhere else Potter. Let me just get this out of the way so we'll have some peace, all right?" Pansy asked. Harry looked to Hermione questioningly. The Muggleborn witch sighed.

"... Sure," she mumbled. "I guess I do owe her."

Harry nodded. He stood up and walked out of the room. He shut the door behind him, leaving Pansy and Hermione alone. Pansy looked back at Hermione and smiled.

"He really can just cheer you right up like that, can't he? Even when he's been an idiot," Pansy said in awe. Hermione scowled.

"What business is it of yours?" She asked waspishly. Pansy held her hands up.

"Pax, Granger! My favor is very simple. I just want information."

"Information?" Hermione asked. Pansy nodded.

"Yes. Namely... How do the protections on this house work?"

"Why are you asking?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes. Pansy rolled hers.

"Because I want to deliver Potter to the Dark Lord," Pansy said sarcastically. "No, I'd like to know what's between me and certain death by Death Eater."

"That's all?" Hermione asked flatly. Pansy nodded.

"That's all. Now, I could tell you what I suspect if it will put your mind at ease... Or give you a chance to rub your superior brain in my face. Whichever you prefer."

"Fine, go," Hermione said. "Regale me with your suspicions."

"Very well," Pansy said. She took a deep breath. "The Dursleys are horrible, horrible people. Even worse than the average Muggle, they are simply deplorable. No sane person would put an innocent child in such an abusive home."

"How would you know-?" Hermione tried, but Pansy shot her a look.

"I saw the cupboard," Pansy said softly. "I also asked them a few questions... Simple ones..."

"Oh..." Hermione murmured softly. Pansy nodded.

"So, either Dumbledore is an absolute monster and utter bastard... Or there's a reason he put Potter here. The Dark Lord's followers? Good reason. The Dark Lord himself? Another good reason. This place offers protection. What's the one common element between this home and his home with his parents? Answer: His mother. Petunia is Lily Potter's sister, is she not? And some of the most powerful magics involve blood ties in rituals." Pansy looked over at Hermione smugly. "How'd I do?"

"Well... I guess I'd give you an O for that," Hermione admitted. She shook her head. "I didn't take you for being-"

"Smart?" Pansy snorted. "We don't all have to show off at every opportunity, Granger. That said, I'm right aren't I?"

"Yes," Hermione said with a nod. "His mother's blood protects him. As long as he's in a house with a loved one from his mother's line, the wards hold. Or at least related to him."

"Hmm," Pansy hummed softly. "I see..." She looked contemplative. Hermione found her ire growing again and wasn't entirely sure why. Then Pansy smiled.

"I think I have a solution that should allow me to prove myself useful," she said. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Have Potter's child, of course," Pansy said with a nod.

Hermione stared. Pansy kept smiling. Hermione kept staring.

"... This is some kind of cruel joke, isn't it? You can laugh at me at any time."

"I'd have done that already, Granger."

"Well then, let me be the first to say, in order: What, WHAT and _BLOODY HELL NO_."  
_  
_

* * *

Knockturn Alley had always held a certain allure to Draco. The forbidden texts, the illegal goings on, who wouldn't be interested in those kinds of things? Hell, he'd had his eyes on that Thief's Hand for _ages._ It was wicked awesome.

But, as he took in the sights (and unfortunately, smells) of Knockturn Alley, his focus was not on what he could buy. No, as he saw the lines of poor wizards and witches seeking handouts or offering various services, he was here for what he could _get._

He walked along the darkened alley, his new robes waving dramatically behind him much like his godfather's. People stopped to watch him as he passed, with expressions of reverence, hope, and fear. He allowed himself a smirk, and strode a bit faster. True, they were probably just acting that way because he was a Malfoy, but he'd make sure that they were doing it because he was Draco... Malfoy!

He came to a group of filthy children, trying to piece together a broken run down broomstick. He rubbed his pointy chin, and nodded.

"Hey, you," he said grandly. "Want to eat?"

The kids looked up and smiled. "Yeah!"

They clustered around him like a pack of hungry werewolves, which made Draco grimace slightly.

"Well if you do, you're going to have to _work,_" Draco said sternly. "You will have to earn your keep! And you little... Ragamuffins," he decided on that word at random, "will do nicely for what I have planned-!"

"Oh no you will not, Draco Malfoy!" Cried a female voice. Draco turned to berate this strange woman for yelling at him-Just as a hand cracked across his cheek. He gasped in shock and held his cheek as he saw his attacker.

Gorgeous face, slightly marred by dirt? Check.

Glorious dark hair, fit for a queen though slightly frizzy? Check.

A body nearly every boy in Hogwarts (and a number of girls) had wanked over, albeit concealed in slightly ragged robes? Check.

"Daphne Greengrass?" He asked incredulously. He looked to her right and saw a blonde girl with somewhat similar features cowering by the nearest wall. "And... Er..."

"My sister," Daphen said flatly. "And you're not going to turn these kids into-into-_your toys,"_ she hissed. Draco blinked quickly, as all the children blinked back.

"What?!" Draco demanded. "Toys?! What the hell are you talking-?"

"Run children, run! He's a monster!" Daphne shouted. The children squealed and ran for it, one pausing to kick Draco in the shins. The Malfoy scion yelped and held his shin as his potential employees vanished into the gloom. He glared at Daphne.

"I'm _not_ a monster! I have a legitimate business!" He said angrily.

"Oh really?" Daphne asked skeptically, arms under her breasts. Her steely cold glare seemed to make his blood turn to ice. "And you're going around asking children to do this _legitimate_ business?"

"Actually, I was starting with children for the sales part," Draco admitted. "Then I was going to get some adults for the manufacturing part... Ah..." At Daphne's confused and angry look, he quickly rummaged in his pockets. He produced a bag of crisps. "I'm making these!"

"These?" Daphne asked flatly, taking the bag and studying it suspiciously. "Prince's Potato Crisps'"? She read. Astoria still kept her distance, keeping a look out in this corner of the alley.

"Yes," Draco said, puffing himself up. "I've started a business with my godfather, to pay for food and so on. And I need workers. And I'm willing to pay them quite handsomely for it."

"To produce potato crisps?" Daphne asked incredulously. Draco nodded.

"Of course! Nothing unseemly," Draco said, holding a hand up. "In fact," and here he looked the sisters over, "as I recall, your Potions grades are tops in Slytherin."

"Better than yours," Daphne said flatly. She shook her head. "And what exactly would I have to do for these... 'potato crisps'?"

"Just stirring and a few other items," Draco assured her. "Maybe some sales, if you're up for public work." Draco shrugged. "What, is what you're doing now more lucrative?"

An older wizard turned the corner and beamed rather nastily at Daphne. He saw Draco, and coughed. "Ah... Madam Greengrass," he said kindly. "I thought we'd agreed on this time for our... Appointment?" He leered a bit, and Draco shuddered. Daphne shuddered as well, but kept her head held high.

"I'm afraid there's been a change of plans," she said quickly. "I have... Er... An appointment with Mister Malfoy." She wrapped an arm around Draco's. When the old wizard's eyes turned towards Astoria, Daphne spoke again. "So does she!"

The old man's eyebrows rose. "Boy has stamina," he said. He shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll go to the usual then. First timers hold a certain charm, but experience truly tells. Good day!" He loped off, and Draco grimaced.

"... What was he-?"

"This job you spoke of," Daphne said quickly. "I can wear clothes for it, can I not?"

Draco flushed heavily. "Er... Well yeah-"

"And my sister?"

"Yes, yes, you can both wear clothes, but what does that have to-?"

"We're hired, get us out of here," Daphne said. She held out her hand. "Come on Astoria."

The blonde girl took her older sister's hand. Draco blinked, and shrugged.

Well, he could try again next time. Maybe with Daphne and Astoria, they seemed to know things around here a lot better. With a tap on his Portkey, they were gone.

* * *

Daphne blinked a few times at the bright summer sun. She heard beeping and grinding sounds. She looked around. The Portkey had taken them to a Muggle town, as those horseless carriages they liked drove to and fro on the roadway. Several Muggles walked by, talking to thin air or little black tablets. Astoria gripped her hand more tightly, and the sisters looked around in confusion and fear.

"Come on, this way," Draco said. He led the sisters to a large, plain looking warehouse. Daphne's frown deepened, and she followed. Astoria still clutched at her hand, worried sick.

"What were you two doing in Knockturn, anyway?" Draco asked in his very best conversational tone. Daphne snorted.

"Our parents were going to marry us off, so we ran away," she said. Draco frowned.

"Been happening a lot lately," he muttered, checking the notes his godfather had given him. He came to the door of the warehouse, and knocked on it three times. A slot in the door opened, and a pair of eyes glared out.

"What's the password?" Barked the man. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, do we have to do this?" He whined.

"Password! Now!"

"Fine. 'Beans beans, the magical fruit. The more you eat, the more you toot,'" Draco said. Astoria giggled. Daphne hid her smirk. Draco's cheeks flushed slightly in humiliation. The door opened, and the man inside nodded approvingly.

"Welcome back, Mister Prince," he said. He looked at the girls. "New hires?"

"Yes," Draco said primly. "Get them what they need. Including a bath, I dare say they need it."

"Not until you show us exactly what we're going to be doing, Draco," Daphne said flatly. She clutched Astoria's hand more tightly. "And if you even think about putting my sister to work-!"

"Oh for," Draco sighed. "Come on!" He entered the warehouse. Daphne and Astoria followed, looking nervously at the tall, older man. He regarded them curiously, then waved his hand out at the warehouse. The two sisters looked... And stared.

Potatoes. Potatoes as far as the eye could see. And several wizards with wands were slicing them up and banishing them into gigantic cooking pots. Draco smiled proudly.

"See? No big deal," he said. "A pair of witches like yourselves should have no trouble getting this kind of work done. And I'll pay you quite handsomely!"

"... Oh," Daphne said, flushing slightly. She looked at Draco with chastened eyes. "I... Sure." She smiled softly. "Sorry Malfoy. I just thought you were..."

"What?" Draco asked, blinking. Daphne frowned.

"You know... Paying us to... Warm your bed?" She asked. Draco's frown deepened.

"Why would I do that? I have heating charms for that," he said. Daphne and Astoria looked at one another, and then back at Draco.

"But why?" She asked. "Why do this for... Well, us?"

Draco's eyes shined with a strange light, and his fists clenched. "It's... A long story, but suffice it to say..." And here he grinned, "the Audi is entirely worth it."

"... Sure Draco," Daphne said, with some new respect. "Er... You mind terribly if we were to get back to the alley? We could recruit those kids for you."

Draco blinked. "Really?"

"Yes! It's the least we can do," she said. "Especially after we implied you were... You know..."

Draco blinked rapidly. The gears in his head slowly turned, context and meaning assembled into a coherent whole. He then turned even paler than usual and coughed.

"Ah... Y-Yeah," he said quickly. "Good idea... Thanks..."

Daphne nodded. "By the way, where are we?"

"A Muggle town named Little Whinging," Draco snorted. "We're expanding the operation out from Cokesworth. Not sure why, the rates on this place aren't spectacular..." He grumbled as he turned and stalked towards the offices, "what do I know, I'm just the _guy with the business plan..."_

* * *

_One more chapter to go, and then...  
_


	15. Chapter 15

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

"So even if we don't end up selling anything from the killer tomatoes crop, there's still a not-inconsiderable amount of-"

Ron knew he was supposed to be paying attention to all of this. Neville was waxing eloquent on the whole subject of what crops he had available. How soon they would be available and what they were looking at in terms of price. One part of his mind actually was paying attention. Sort of. At least enough to roughly catalogue what they would be able to sell for Neville, what they wouldn't be able to sell, but Luna, thank goodness, actually had a pad and a quill out and she was taking notes.

It was a struggle to keep his attention on what Neville was saying, given the impressive greenhouse and well… it was produce. He wasn't exactly feeling particularly stimulated by the topic. On the other hand, every time his eyes would stray over to Luna, he would find her paying close attention to Neville and this made him remember that he too should be paying attention.

Also, the fact that she seemed to be hanging on his every word was triggering all sorts of weird possessive instincts he had never experienced before.

Or that could have been gas from breakfast.

His slightly bored glance swept around the garden once more, when he noticed something odd.

There was a small field of those Killer Tomatoes, but in the center of it was a single door leading to a tiny stone shed.

He frowned at how incongruous it was, but even as he looked he realized that there actually was a path winding through those deadly attack tomatoes that was just outside their reach all the way from the edge of the field to the door.

"Um… is something wrong, Ron?" Neville asked tentatively, noticing the redhead's lack of attention and wondering if he had bored the boy.

"Hmm? Oh, Sorry, Neville. It's just…" He pointed. "What is that?"

Neville's face lost its apprehension and grew animated once more, "Oh! Well, this Greenhouse hasn't seen people in it for a very long time. Turns out the planting beds weren't the only things that got left here."

"Do tell?" Luna asked curiously.

"It's one of those things that's been in the family a while. You both know how it is… sometimes things get tossed in a corner and then the next thing you know a couple decades have passed and everyone's forgotten you left it there?" Neville explained.

"'Cor," Ron murmured, "Well, maybe in your house. Mum would go spare if we left a mess."

"I do know what you mean," Luna replied brightly, "We've turned up more than one ancient heirloom or old family legacy in the Rookery's attic."

Neville nodded, "Exactly. Sometimes, though, the things your ancestors put away are a little… bigger than people would expect." He grinned and took Luna's hand… then after a moment's hesitation and a fiery blush, let it go and beckoned them both after him instead. "Gran might actually still be down there. We've been working on restoring it in between time in the garden." He blushed again, "She says I need to learn to use the Longbottom legacy."

"But what is it?" Ron asked, content to follow, although he did betray some nervousness as the tomatoes snapped and lashed at them only to be pulled up short as they stayed entirely on the pathway.

"Come see." Neville said, grinning once more as he led them onwards.

"Probably some kind of plant?" Ron whispered to a bemused Luna.

Luna blinked then whispered back, "That's survived untended in a tiny closed in stone hut for hundreds of years?"

"Well, that'd explain why Nev's excited about it, right?" Ron asked.

Luna clapped her hands in excitement, "It could very well be a Therminous Lumothump. Its main part of the Heliotrope's diet. The Heliotrope provides the light for it to grow and the Heliotrope in turn eats the Lumothump's leaves. It could very well be the perfect means to lure the ministry controlled Heliotropes out of hiding."

Ron's eyes glazed over as he tried to process what she'd just said. That made no sense to him at all. And he had to very firmly and quietly tell the mental voice that had sounded like Hermione to shut up. "If… you say so?"

Once past the tomatoes (who Ron would later swear were giving him the hairy, or rather leafy, eyeball), Neville touched portions of the door which seemed to sink into the wood before the whole thing folded downwards into the floor, revealing a set of stairs spiraling downwards into the darkness.

"This way." Neville called over his shoulder, leading his guests down.

The darkness gave way to a dim half-light as they walked down the stone steps. Ron had lost track of just how far down they'd gone, but he was willing to bet it had been more than a hundred feet down at least. Every full turn of the stairs, a torch would spring to life as they passed by and would then die down right before they reached the next.

It was disorienting.

He found himself wondering if this was where Neville had originally been planning to take Luna down to for 'discussing' whatever it was that he felt he needed to discuss alone with her.

He thought that, and wondered why he'd had that thought. It wasn't a jealous though. He could identify those rightly enough. Huh.

"Here we go." Neville said as they reached a landing. There was a set of double doors that, in a move completely uncharacteristic of anyone who knew Neville Longbottom, he threw open.

Beyond was a large stone room that was easily several stories tall. All around the room were very old and dusty wood and rope walkways crisscrossing at every angle. None of that really registered, because the eye was drawn to the immense… thing… in the center of the room.

It was metal and humanoid. Its head had the appearance of a Roman Centurion's helmet and the entire frame implied the body of a muscular man without actually having all the spaces for such a body filled in. The limbs themselves were immense cross-braced metal struts holding up armored plates. It was difficult to determine the exact size of the thing without anything to compare it against.

"It's a Talos," Luna said in surprise. "How lovely. I didn't think any made it past the 17th century in one piece."

Neville nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, yes. That's about how long it's been Gran figured since this has been down here."

"What," Ron asked as he stared up at the colossal construct, "Is a Talos?"

"There were a handful of them built back in the 1500's," Luna replied dreamily, "The design is based on the Colossus of Rhodes. These models, however, were used against a Dark Lord of the time who liked to use dragons. Most of them were destroyed over the ensuing decades… and well… dragons tend to be a bit rough with anything that attacks them."

"'Cor. So that's for dragon fighting?" Ron asked in awe. He was not going to be jealous, he told himself repeatedly. He was not going to be jealous that Neville had a forgotten giant dragon-fighting armor in the basement of his giant greenhouse. Nope. Not at all.

Luna gave him a look and then squeezed his hand. "I'd read about them, of course," She said idly. "But I certainly didn't expect it to be so… big."

A stern female voice came from the shadows surrounding the Talos, "This is the second largest weapon in the Longbottom arsenal."

Luna smiled slyly, "The largest must be truly remarkable given this only runs second."

Dame Augusta Longbottom stepped closer to the teenagers. Luna dropped a polite curtsy and after an elbow to the gut, Ron managed to snap out of staring at the Talos long enough to bow to her.

"So you're Xenophilius Lovegood's daughter?" Augusta asked with distant formality.

"Yes, Lady Longbottom."

She inclined her head then glanced over to Neville. "She's a pretty one, isn't she?"

Luna gave the woman a sunny smile, while Neville seemed to be choking.

The older woman's eyes narrowed as she did notice something. "And you must be Mr. Weasley?"

"Ye-yes, ma'am." Ron stammered out, intimidated by the older woman.

Her gaze flicked down to where Luna and Ron's hands were intertwined and she made a sniff. "You and the young lady seem to be quite close."

Ron would have explained, and Neville seemed to be on the verge of doing so himself, but Luna spoke up once more.

"Does Neville know how to handle it?"

The older woman gave her an approving smile and replied, "In my grandson's hands it is most formidable."

Luna cooed, "It's very impressive. And so rugged."

"We've worked very hard on it." Lady Longbottom agreed.

Neville began coloring. Ron simply seemed confused.

"How long can it keep going?" Luna asked, eyes glittering innocently.

"As long as the endurance of its user holds out. It draws on his magic, you see. Neville's put in a lot of hours training so he's actually quite capable of going the long haul."

"So... Neville can keep going and going and going?"

"Oh, yes. He most certainly can." Lady Longbottom said with a nod. "Takes after his father. His mother was always very satisfied with Frank's work ethic."

Ron's slightly more alert mind noted that clearly there was some sort of subtext he needed to be aware of and was trying to decide if he was going to get upset about it or not. This also left him slightly torn as to whether he should consult his inner Hermione to see if she had any advice, but that just seemed kind of a bad thing to do asking some other imaginary woman for advice about something your wife was doing.

"Er… Gran, don't you… ahem… have your friends coming over shortly?" Neville interrupted hesitantly.

Luna, all innocent smiles beamed at him. Lady Longbottom turned and regarded Neville for a long moment. He was squirming the whole time. "Yes, I suppose I should clean up and get things ready. The ladies are expecting tea."

She gave Ron an imperious glare, "Perhaps your Mister Weasley here would care to accompany me and assist in entertaining? I'm certain Neville will be able to entertain young Miss Lovegood for the afternoon."

Ron was now SURE he had missed something during the earlier conversation.

"That's Mrs. Weasley, actually," Luna said. "I would really much prefer it if my husband were allowed to stay with us."

Lady Longbottom stopped at that. Her glare at Ron having quickly turned neutral. She then turned that flat stare at Neville who was most definitely cowering now. "Married. How… interesting. Were you aware that she was married, Neville?"

"Well, yes-" Neville began, prepared to launch into an explanation that he'd only just found out a few minutes ago, but his Gran cut him off.

"I see. That is… interesting. I will let you and your husband," She gave Ron a nod and a slightly apologetic smile. "Continue with your visit." She pinned Neville with another glare, "with my grandson. Who will no doubt need to have a good talking to about appropriate behavior for a young gentleman around a married lady."

"Does he?" Luna asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Very much so." She growled. "Good day."

With that, she swept past them and up the stairs.

Ron stared after her, then glanced at Neville who was still blushing furiously, then over to Luna who seemed to still simply be smiling faintly. "Okay… I know I missed something."

* * *

Alfred hadn't traveled a lot. Frankly, a bus trip to Dover was the height of his adventures. Hence his attraction to RPGs: They let him explore a world of wonder and amazement. It let him build whole worlds with his mind, let his imagination run free. Free of the confines of a crappy job and nagging step parents.

Okay, maybe he did spend a lot of time over with Tom and his friends! So what? He still made money and did his job! He still got home on time... Mostly.

And these people were awesome. Really nice. Well, mostly nice. Some were assholes, but others were just the most welcoming and creative kinds of people!

And today, he was finally getting to go along with them on an actual session. He arrived at the castle, wearing his robes, a bottle of Shasta and a few bags of Chex Mix and other assorted goodies in his backpack. He cheerfully walked up to the door, and knocked. It opened, and he strolled on in.

Tom was looking over plans in the kitchen with that poncy guy Lucius, Bellatrix, and that Yaxley guy. Tom looked up, and Alfred bowed respectfully.

"My Lord," he said cheerfully... As the contents of his backpack spilled out onto his head. "ARGH! GAH! OW!"

He heard Yaxley snicker. He then heard Bellatrix smack him, and she hurried over to his side. "Oh Alfred! Are you all right?" She cooed. Alfred blinked and rubbed the soda out of his eyes. Tom looked amused. So did Yaxley.

"Welcome, Alfred," Tom said. "I am pleased to see you here. Tell me, are you prepared for the Giant Raising Ritual?"

"Yes My Lord... And I'm fine, Bell... Er, I mean Mum!" He said quickly at the terrifying look in Bellatrix's eyes. She smiled, and looked over at Tom. He nodded. Bellatrix pulled out her wand, and waved it over Alfred's face.

"_Evanesco,"_ she said.

"That's great, Mum, but could you hand me a towel... Instead...?" He blinked as the sticky fizzy feeling of the soda vanished. He reached up and touched his face. "Er..." He looked over at Bellatrix in shock. "Uhhh..."

Tom just seemed to smile a bit wider. "Good. I was hoping you'd come with us as we enact the ritual."

"Uhm... Er..." Alfred blinked repeatedly. "I... Yeah, sure..."

Okay. That was weird. Very, very weird. He wasn't about to freak out though. That would just be uncool.

"Excellent," Tom said, rolling up a parchment. "We'll be going to the mass giant graveyard in Greece. Where three centuries ago, over a thousand giants met their end at the hands of the Titan Hunters."

"The mercenary group of wizard giant slayers who felled them with brooms, blades and fearsome spells?" Asked Alfred with a grin. Tom nodded.

"The same. You've been reading the texts. Good!"

"Yeah! It sounds awesome," admitted Alfred. "So! Where we heading? The local forest has these old burnt trees that would do..."

"Actually," Tom said with a smile and a flash of his red eyes, "we're going to Greece."

Alfred blinked. "Er... Mate, you want to spend that much on this? I mean, this castle alone-"

"Oh, it won't take very long," Tom said, waving his hand. "And it will cost nothing. Bella? Would you kindly?"

"Of course Master!" Bellatrix said giddily. She took Alfred by the arm. "Come on Alfred!"

"Wait, what are-"

The universe seemed to _shrink_ and then _expand_ and then popped back into being. Alfred heard the calls of gulls and the crashing of waves. He looked around to see mountains overhead. The sea was at his back. The smell of salt water was in his nostrils.

He looked around in utter disbelief, working his jaw up and down. Tom and Yaxley appeared in front of him, as Bellatrix just beamed.

"You see? Nothing to it," Tom said. Alfred slowly looked back at him.

"... What happened?" He asked.

"We apparated," Tom replied. "You remember that spell in the books, do you not? Classified it as requiring twice the mana per square moved?"

"Er... Yeah, I-I did," Alfred said unsteadily. Tom turned to Yaxley. The other man pulled out a box, and turned it over. Brushes fell from it, and came to life. Impossibly, they began to paint out ritual circles, runes and arrays all around the rocky plateau they stood on. Tom produced a stave of black wood, and waited. The brushes flew back, painting interconnecting lines between all the arrays to a single point. This point Tom stood over... And thrust the black stave into the center.

The paint glowed bright green, then red, then white. It broke apart and screams filled the air. Unholy shrieks of unimaginable horror. All around them, the ground shook. A white bit of rock began to emerge from the soil just a few meters away from Alfred. Then another, and another...

The rocks were connected to other rocks... Some connected to what looked like rotting meat, clothing...

_Those aren't rocks,_ Alfred realized, still standing perfectly still in his shock. _Those aren't rocks..._

The moans of giant skeletons, cadavers and monsters filled the air, and Tom looked upon his new army with satisfaction.

"It will require a great deal of alchemically produced flesh to make them suitable, but... Nevertheless, it is effective," he said. He turned to Alfred. "Your spell suggestions worked marvelously, Loremaster. Just marvelously."

"... I'm not dreaming, am I?" Alfred asked. Bellatrix beamed.

"No, my son. You aren't. You are the loremaster of the greatest Dark Wizard who ever lived, and are helping him conquer the entire world, as is your birthright," she cooed. Alfred very slowly looked over the abominations made bone and partial flesh standing around them. He looked back at Tom-No, _Lord Voldemort_.

"... _Wicked,"_ said the Loremaster.

* * *

Harry cooked dinner for himself and the girls later that night, the Hat now securely atop his head. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he considered the mess his life had grown into. One day, _one day_ he'd resolved to work on becoming his own man and what happened?

_You're alone in the house with two hot witches,_ the Hat commented. _How exactly is this a bad thing?_

_I... I guess I'm just afraid,_ Harry admitted.

_Of leaving them behind if Riddle kills you? _The Hat snorted. _I sincerely doubt they won't be far behind._

_Well... Yeah,_ Harry admitted, given that Hermione was his best friend and Pansy was a runaway Pureblood. He couldn't imagine things ending well for either of them if he lost... Or for anyone else, for that matter.

_Now, since we're done with your self pity for the evening,_ the Hat lectured, _back to your training! Focus! Focus..._

Harry looked down at the pot full of bubbling water and pasta. He focused, his mind bending around him. The bubbles were frantic and constant, and the noodles twisted and turned in the hot pot of steaming water... The water rippled, as each bubble formed and burst at the surface. Their paths to the top of the water became clear, the steam wafted slowly, so slowly around him. He looked to the right-The clock was ticking, slower... Slower...

_See the world when you speed things up,_ the Hat spoke in his mind. _See every action taking place... That wonder you feel at it, hold onto it! Your feelings let you shape your magic, as well as your words and thoughts!_

_Then it's a lot more than wand waving and so on?_ Harry wondered. The Hat laughed in his mind, as Harry watched a fly buzz through the air. Its flapping wings shone in the light of the lamps overhead, enough for Harry to see the pattern.

_Magic is a force of the universe, the heartbeat of creation, boy,_ the Hat lectured. _It is in the subtle mixing of potion ingredients, the flight of a snitch, the shining stars above you. If your will is strong enough, you have this power... And what do you think you cannot accomplish, if you have the will to see it through?_

_You're being... Awfully eloquent all of a sudden,_ Harry thought back, leaning over to watch the fly in fascination. The Hat huffed.

_Blame that on Flitwick. I have his memories in here. You should pay more attention to him! Soul of a poet... Well, a randy poet who proclaimed himself the god of tits and wine._

Harry's face flushed red. _I... Really?! I can't even imagine-!_

_He's cooled off a bit in his old age, but rest assured, he's got it where it counts,_ the Hat said. Harry slowly turned back to the pot, and caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye that was moving. He pulled his wand and pointed it at the doorway just as a pink haired Auror rounded the bend. Tonks yelped, and held her hands up as Harry's sped up perception went back to normal.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks said. She looked him up and down and grinned. "Got both wands on me, I see."

"Huh? Oh, uh," Harry blushed, and lowered his wand. "Right, sorry..." He turned to the stove and got back to work on dinner. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm starving and I want some food," she said. "And some conversation that doesn't involve your tight arse."

Harry looked over his shoulder and gaped. "I-_Wha-?!"_

Tonks giggled. "Well, you are putting on _quite_ the show for me..."

"And?" Harry asked flatly. Tonks shrugged.

"Few others. Fellow Order members keeping an eye on you..." She grinned. "This is quite frankly _hilarious._ Though maybe wearing a bit thin with how..." She considered her words, "_passive _you are."

"Passive?" Harry squawked. He had enough sense to focus on the meat in the frying pan though, to ensure it didn't burn. "Wh-What do you mean, passive?! I don't act passive!"

"Well, technically you're right. You don't act," and here Tonks adopted a serious expression. "You just tend to... You know... React. Unless someone's in danger or in trouble, you don't. You just kind of drift along."

Harry made a face. "The Hat said the same thing," he sighed. "Is it really that... That noticeable?"

Tonks laughed, with a sympathetic look in her eyes. "Oh trust me Harry, it _is._ I mean, even Ron can be more proactive than you in things not directly threatening your don't do anything unless Hermione bullies you into doing it."

"And she doesn't like that?" Harry asked, mystified. Tonks chuckled.

"Well, I always figured Hermione for a bit of a control freak, but I'm sure she'd like it every once in a while if you took the initiative. You know... do nice things for her even when she doesn't remind you. Sometimes a girl likes it when the man makes the first move." She smiled at her. "Of course she loves that you save her and the day but you can't do that _all_ the time, right?"

"No," Harry admitted. "It would drive me nutters."

"Exactly!" Tonks said. "And one way to act and show initiative is to resolve this situation."

"I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings," Harry admitted. The Hat snorted.

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't. You want to just dally on it forever?"

"Besides, you can at least _talk_ about this situation, can't you?" Tonks asked. "Just talk. If it helps," and here the currently pinkette's smile grew mischievous, "think of it as, well... Planning to take down a monster. Or Death Eaters."

Harry frowned. "Hmmm... Well... If Hermione was my enemy..." He tapped his spatula on the side of the frying pan, "I would... Take her by surprise and cast my strongest spells at her a few times, then take cover before she has a chance to recover."

"So, translate that into actions that aren't violence, and you'll be set!" Tonks said cheerfully.

_Well, maybe not entirely free of violence, given her hair isn't the only thing kinky about her,_ the Hat commented. Harry flushed.

"And Pansy, how will you handle her?" Tonks pressed. Harry shrugged, and combined the meat and pasta with the sauce.

"Probably the same thing, just to be fair."

"Fair?" Tonks asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry nodded.

"Yeah!"

"So you want her to like you too?" Tonks asked with a smirk. Harry coughed, and mixed the ingredients together hurriedly.

"No! Of course not! It's just if I do only nice things for Hermione, then Pansy might get jealous..."

"Oh, yes," Tonks said with a nod. Harry looked off into the distance, thinking aloud.

"Then she'll take it out on me. She'd escalate."

"Escalate?" Tonks asked.

"Even less clothes, more innuendo," Harry said. "I mean, she's already got us alone in the house! Next she might try..." He blushed as his mind came up with several images. The Hat chuckled.

"Oh my, indeed," the Hat said. "Do you really think you can do that with the ropes so that they-MMPH!" Harry shut the mouth of the Hat with a nervous smile as Tonks eyed him.

"So in the interests of her NOT seducing you, you're going to be extra nice to her?" Tonks asked, mystified. Harry nodded.

"Yes!"

"Your logic truly astounds me," Tonks said dryly. Harry flushed, and shrugged.

"Er, well..."

"Come on boy, time for dinner," the Hat said. "You can make an even bigger arse of yourself than usual."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Harry muttered, setting the pot of pasta on the table. He headed upstairs. He heard a boom in the distance, and frowned. _Thunder? Guess we are overdue for some rain..._

His Slytherin side rose the specter of paranoia, and Harry closed his eyes. He expanded his legimency. He caught... Fear... Terror... Anger...

He sprinted upstairs and slammed open the door. "Pansy! Hermione! Are you...?" They were staring out the window, transfixed, as the sounds of thunder got louder. Harry frowned. "Girls? What's wrong?"

Hermione looked over at Harry, and pointed out the window. Pansy emulated the action. Harry walked up to it, and peeked out. His jaw dropped.

Across the street, a giant was smashing a house up. Every time it's massive foot came down, the ground shook. More figures towered over the homes, huge shapes lumbering across the skyline.

"The... _Hell...?"_ Harry gasped. Hermione frowned.

"We were in an argument but then... Well... _That_ appeared," she said, pointing out the window. "This is bad, this is very, _very_ bad."

"I suggest we hide in the basement," Pansy said quickly. "Blood wards will protect us, won't they? They won't find us!"

"Well, in theory anyone with hostile intent cannot enter the wards," Hermione suggested. She looked over at Harry and flushed. "I did some research-"

Harry nodded. "I know..."

"And giants with hostile intent can't possibly get in here so long as the wards are up," Hermione said. Harry's eyes twitched. "Harry?"

"Hermione, the only things I'm picking up are human terror," Harry said quietly. "Giants... I should be able to sense them, right?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said quickly. Pansy was staring out the window in increasing horror. "You should... Unless they were undead..." Her eyes slowly widened.

"In which case, what kind of intent would they have?" Harry asked.

_MERLIN'S BALLS GET DOWN!_ Pansy screamed in her mind, and Harry grabbed Hermione and Pansy to fulfill her desire. It was just in time, too-A massive rotting hand smashed through the window, and clumsily wrenched up the roof. They all screamed, and scrambled to get back to the hallway. Another massive fist slammed through the wall, blocking off their escape route. He heard Tonks screaming down below, over the pounding of his heart beat.

_Well Boy,_ the Hat observed grimly, _I guess your little vacation of hijinks is over._

Harry took a few deep breaths as the grotesque, rotting face of the giant grinned through the hole in the roof. It's eyes focused dully on them. He felt Hermione clutching his arm in terror, and Pansy hiding behind him. _Where are their wands...?_

He got a flash of Hermione's wand sitting on the table downstairs, and Pansy's was left in her jacket on the same level. He felt their terror and fear, Hermione scrambling for a plan, Pansy just wanting him to protect her, to be the Boy Who Lived...

And he realized what he had to do. He pulled his wand and stood up.

_"REDUCTO!"_ He bellowed, blowing apart the nearby wall and sending a cloud of debris into the eyes of the giant. He pointed his wand downstairs. _"Accio broom!"_

The broom broke out of his trunk and flew up. The giant roared, filling the air with a dark miasma. Harry mounted his broom with a leap, and smoothly reached up under the brim of the Sorting Hat as he flew up through the cloud of debris he'd sent up. He grasped the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor, and yanked it out. The Hat fell around his neck, held by a string that it manifested. Harry spun through the air, getting above the massive rotting giant. He brandished his sword and wand as the monster slowly looked up at him, the moonlight glinting off it's huge teeth.

"Hey! You want me? COME AND GET ME!" Harry bellowed.

* * *

_And here... We... Go._


	16. Chapter 16

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

_"REDUCTO!"_ Harry bellowed out, diving on the giant as it stretched its huge hands out for him. He dove through the grasping fingers, and raised his wand again. "_REDUCTO! REDUCTO! REDUCTO!"_

Dark chunks were blown out of the hide of the giant, but as Harry dove through the legs of the beast and shot back up he didn't hear any cries of pain or anguish. Nor any signs of the beast stopping, given it turned right back around and reached up for him again.

_Damn! _"_REDUCTO!"_ Harry bellowed again, and blew out one of the giant's eyes. It kept on grinning, and staggered for him. In the distance, he could see other giants converging on his position, attracted by the noise he was making.

_Hat? How do I take these things out?_ Harry asked.

_Giants are extremely tough, but proper pain spells can drive off living ones,_ the Hat said.

_I don't think that'll work on these,_ Harry said. The giant began to look back towards Number Twelve, and Harry grit his teeth. He dove and flew right in front of the lumbering zombie's face.

"HEY! COME ON! FRESH MEAT, RIGHT HERE!" He shouted. The giant reached for him, once more turning from the damaged house and his friends within.

_Indeed, but there are two things that will,_ the Hat said. _That sword you drew can slice through giant flesh easily, but that's just the first step!_

_First step?_ Harry wondered, now weaving between the grasping fingers of another giant. The two monsters kept watching him, hungrily trying to catch him. He saw people on the street screaming now, and heard sirens in the distance. One of the giants looked down at Number Ten Privet Drive, where a family of four was rushing for their car. Harry's eyes widened. _HAT! FAST!_

_First step is to cut a path way through,_ the Hat said, _then hit it with a powerful spell to destroy the brain! And here's just the one! I'll feed it to your brain, open the path!_

Harry dove on the giant advancing on the family. He saw them starting their car and backing out, but the giant's foot extended out, and smashed the boot. He heard the children shrieking, even up here. He focused his mind, and dove.

He'd practiced as a Beater during some practices with Oliver. It helped him to know how the other positions worked, his old coach said. Also to understand the mechanics of flight when you have to do something else. Oliver had grinned and gave Harry a thumbs up.

_"Racing brooms were made for battle, Harry! For brave wizards to fight aerial beasts, dragons and giant monsters! Quidditch is much more than a mere _game, _Harry! It is continuing that tradition of brave wizards and witches, flying into battle! Feel that warrior's spirit, Harry! Feel it burn through you!"_

He set his Firebolt into a spin, and grasped the Sword with both hands. He swung with the combined momentum, and felt only a slight resistance as the blade met the giant's flesh. He slashed as deep as he could, in one smooth motion, so slow at his enhanced processing speed...

And the world sped up as he finished his cut, flying up over the giant. He pointed his wand at the gap he'd produced, and the Hat's spell left his lips as a roar.

_"CONFRINGO!" _He bellowed, and a golden star left his wand. It shot into the gap in the giant's neck, and the monster's eyes and mouth burst into flames. The beast stumbled, and Harry dove down. He was pointing his wand, already getting a spell to move the car aside-

_"CONTEGO!"_ Shouted another voice, and a blue shield charm formed around the car. The giant slammed against it, and slumped over in a heap on its side as it left indents in the pavement. The terrified family stared out the windows at the same person Harry did: Hermione, running up with her wand brandished. Pansy was right behind her, also clutching her wand.

"Harry! Behind you!" Pansy shouted. Harry_'_s Seeker reflexes kicked in and he dove, the first giant's hand barely missing him. He could feel the pressure of the passing fingers, and he arched up on the broom. He shot through the beast's arms and slashed the sword through its face. The bones offered more resistance than the flesh, but not enough to stop him. Harry flipped upside down, dispersing his momentum as he pointed his wand down at the monster.

"_CONFRINGO!"_ He bellowed, and the one eyed giant's head exploded into a burning mess. The body slumped to the ground, collapsing like a puppet with cut strings. Harry flew down, landing on the pavement in a run up to Hermione and Pansy. Hermione immediately hugged him.

"Harry! Are you all right?" She gasped.

"I'm fine too, by the way," Pansy said flatly, albeit sounding frightened. Harry gave her a smile.

"You all right?"

"Yeah..."

"Tonks?" Harry asked. Hermione grimaced.

"She was knocked out by the giant-Pansy used a Stasis Charm, she should be fine but we don't know any medical spells-"

"Then try to get in contact with the Order," Harry said. He looked around Little Whinging, sirens and explosions and screams all audible in the night. "I'm going to take down more giants."

"Harry, if this is an attack by Voldemort," Hermione began, "then it stands to reason he _wants_ you to come out!"

"Of course it's an attack by the Dark Lord! Who else?" Pansy said flatly. Harry nodded.

"All the more reason for me to stop it-"

"Stop it?! On your own?!" Hermione cried. "There might be hundreds!"

"And what am I supposed to do, Hermione?" Harry asked angrily. "Let innocent people die while I hide?!"

"But last time, with Sirius-" Hermione tried, but she froze at the angry look on Harry's face.

"You... You _bring him up?"_ Harry asked harshly. "I-I-I nearly _lost_ you there Hermione! I almost lost everybody, and I lost Sirius and you-!"

"That's why I don't want you going!" Hermione said angrily. "Not alone! We need reinforcements and we need more people-!"

"Then get them! Meanwhile, I'm the only one who can take these things down and I'm going to do it!" Harry said angrily. "You stay here and don't get hurt!"

"What, I'm just going to sit here like a damsel in distress?" Hermione asked, shoving Harry slightly. "You need me!"

"I need you to be _safe!"_

Pansy sighed and pointed up. "Giant," she said flatly. Harry leaped on his broom again, and charged at the approaching giant. He slashed through the monster's forehead as it grasped for him, and pointed his wand at the incision. Once more, he blew it's brains out with _Confringo_ and sent it crashing down. He flew down to Hermione and Pansy, panting slightly.

"Like I was saying," Harry said, "I need you to be safe, and you can help me by getting help! So do _that!"_

"Harry I-!"

"I'm telling you how it's going to be, Hermione!" Harry shouted. He grasped her hand. "You... You brought up Sirius and the Ministry? What part of this situation is... I haven't... I'm making a better choice, aren't I?"

Hermione sniffled. "Not a better choice by me, Harry," she said. "Not a better choice... I mean..."

Pansy groaned, and gripped the shoulders of both Gryffindors.

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Pansy sighed. "Granger, do you have a spare broom?"

Hermione flushed.

"Well, no-"

"Are you any good on one?" She asked. Hermione scowled.

"I-I'm just-!"

"No," Harry said flatly. "So you're staying." He handed her the Sorting Hat. "I'll be careful, and the Hat can teach you the spells you need to protect yourselves but I need to know _you_ two are safe if I'm not going to do anything stupid." He looked at them both. "All right?"

Pansy actually blushed a bit at this. Hermione very slowly nodded.

"I... I... All right," Hermione sighed, defeated. "But I'm holding you to that, Harry James Potter!"

_"_I know," Harry said with a smile. "I know..."

They stared at each other. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Oh for bloody...!" She gripped Hermione's hair and shoved her face into Harry's. The two both looked surprised at this, holding onto one another. Their lips met, chastely and almost sweetly. They looked into each other's eyes...

Pansy glared angrily, and scoffed.

"You call that a kiss goodbye?!" She asked, very pissed, as the two separated with bright red faces. "Here, look." Pansy grabbed Harry's hair and pulled him into a kiss. Hermione's jaw dropped as Harry's eyes bugged out. Pansy slurped against his lips, it seemed, before releasing him. She panted softly, and brushed her mussed hair out of her face.

"Go you silly arse!" She shouted. Harry nodded frantically, hopped on his broom, and sped off into the night. Pansy took deep breaths, and looked over at the intensely staring Hermione. She shrugged. "What? He wasn't going to go until one of us did it! And I gave you the first one, so what do you have to be upset about?"

The ground shook. Both witches looked behind them and saw a giant starting towards them. Pansy cringed and immediately sought shelter. Hermione stared at it... And put the Sorting Hat on her head. A moment later, she reached up under the brim and pulled out... A silver dagger, with rubies embedded in the hilt. Pansy goggled in disbelief.

"Gryffindor's _dagger? _What the bloody hell are you going to _do _to a _giant_ with tha-"

Hermione tossed the dagger up in the air in front of her, giving it a spin. She flicked out her wand.

"_DEPULSO!" _Hermione bellowed, and the dagger was sent shooting for the giant with the sound of a thunderclap. It actually hurt Pansy's ears. The giant lost it's eye, and stumbled a bit before it kept on coming. Hermione raised her wand again.

"_CONFRINGO!"_ She shouted, and she unleashed a yellow star of her own. It hit the giant right in it's pierced eye, and light blasted from its orifices. It stumbled again, this time unable to catch itself as it fell right for the two witches. Pansy shrieked and dove behind a car. Hermione calmly stayed where she was... And took a step back.

The giant slammed into the ground in front of them, burying its face in the asphalt. Hermione's hair and robes were blown back by the impact, but otherwise she was unmoved. Pansy watched from behind her cover, her jaw feeling like it would never close up again. Hermione turned and looked over at Pansy, negligently Summoning the Dagger back to her hand.

"Shall we?" She asked.

* * *

Meanwhile on the other side of Little Whinging:

Draco stalked into the warehouse factory in Little Whinging blushing slightly, but obviously fighting to stay composed. He had an arm around an ashen-faced Daphne who was muttering softly.

The eye of every wizard and witch working in the factory turned to stare, curiosity plain on the dozens of workers.

Ginny's voice suddenly cut through the sudden silence with a volume and pitch that would have made Molly Weasley proud. "Draco Malfoy! The paperwork's been piling up! Where have you been!?"

She strode out of the office, the smart, muggle-styled business suit with its too short skirt, her hair streaming like a banner behind her.

Following close behind was Astoria Greengrass, wearing one of Draco's little black suits and carrying a clipboard. She'd taken to following Ginny around and claiming she was the older girl's assistant.

"Oh, Weasley… I… we… that is to say…" Draco stammered.

Ginny stopped in front of the two, the expression on her face darkening. "And what, pray tell, have you two been doing?!"

Astoria stared at her sister, shocked at the girl's lack of composure. Even more shocked when Daphne suddenly darted away from Draco, who looked even more embarrassed, to cling to Astoria.

She spoke in a quavering voice that in the shocked silence carried quite well. "Never again, Draco. Just… I'll work hard. Harder than anyone else here. I'll even give you my sister-"

Astoria gave an terrified squeak, but then her eyes turned calculating as she looke Draco up and down like he was a side of meat.

"- to do with as you please! I will do anything you want. ANYTHING." Her voice had risen to a terrified shriek. "Just absolutely never make me do that EVER again!" She cowered, trying to use her much smaller sister to shield her from Draco.

"I didn't think you'd…" Draco sputtered, "It was supposed to be fun!"

His exclamation drew shocked gasps from the working wizards.

Daphne shuddered and shook her head over and over, "No, no, no, no… never again. Never again. Any kind of work you want to give me. Anything! I will have your pureblood babies. Use me as your personal footstool, ANYTHING. Just never do that to me again!"

Everyone was definitely staring now.

Whispers began travelling all around the room. Draco twitched as he overheard them.

"Toldja young Master Malfoy was just bidin' his time til he showed us the true depths of his evil and depravity. Three cheers for our dark master!"

"We really are workin' for You Know Who's number one if he can scare a tough lil lady like that Greengrass this bad."

"Can't be workin' for You Know Who. I still say he's made some sort of evil demonic pact with this… Oh-Dee thing he keeps talkin' bout."

"The Oh-Dee ain't no demon. It's some muggle thing."

"Are we sure Oh-Dee ain't like initials or summat like that? Like 'Ole' Dumbledore'?"

"A Malfoy workin' for Dumbledore. Pfah. Pull the other one it's got bells on."

"'S'gotta be a demon thingee. Its the only explanation that makes sense."

"Demon… listen to you… that's stupid. What kind of demon is it? Demon of Potatoes?"

"Well where ELSE did Malfoy get alla the spuds, eh?"

"Anyone else notice how nasty Weasley's lookin'? I don't think she likes to share."

Draco was impressed that Ginny appeared to actually be leaking steam out of her ears. She ground her teeth then snapped at Astoria. "Take your sister to the dorm."

"But…" Astoria began to protest, but realizing that Daphne was still clinging to her, cut it off and brought her sister to the prefabricated sheds that lined one wall of the warehouse and served as dormitories for most of the workers. It was just more efficient than having all of them portkey back and forth between Little Whinging and Knockturn Alley in London. A few still did, but they had to pay for the priviledge out of their wages.

"And you-" Ginny growled, grabbing hold of Draco's ear and all but dragging him to their shared office.

"Ow, ow, ow! Weasley! Let go!"

One of the worker wizards leaned over to the one next to his station and asked, "Who's in charge of this operation again?"

"Never thought we'd see a Weasley servin' a Dark Lord, much less a Demon." The other replied. "We've all heard her evoke the name of Oh-Dee."

"You don't think it was young Master Malfoy that seduced her over to his side?"

"Well, she is a Weasley. I hear tell they're easy. On the other hand, Dreadful a master as young Master Malfoy is, I don't think he could seduce his way out of a paper bag. So, tiny muggle skirts aside, I'm pretty sure that Weasley girl's probably the real brains behind this operation. She's just lettin' 'im think he's in charge."

"Oh… so they're married then?"

"Good as."

"He's awful whipped, ain't he?"

"Well, she IS a Weasley."

"Weasley! I-WEASLEY!" Draco shouted, finally getting a grip on Ginny's wrist and freeing his ear.

"What are you doing with her?" She growled, poking at his chest with a finger.

"I…"

"Your next answer is going to determine whether or not I hex your bits off." She continued and he realized that it wasn't a finger she was poking him with, but rather her wand.

"Look… it was… she… I mean…"

"What. Did. You. Do."

"I took her to the dealership!" He whimpered.

Her eyes hardened, "Did you? Did you tell her you wanted her to 'understand' what you were working for?"

"Well… yes?!" He was baffled by the question. "She said she wanted to know what the Audi was! I offered to show her."

"YOU DROVE HER IN MY CAR?!"

"Your… that's my car, Weasley!" He snarled back, eyes blazing. "You wouldn't even know about it without me. You'd still be moping around in Cokesworth going on about how your stupid boyfriend left you if I hadn't given you direction!"

"Like HELL." She hissed, getting in his face. "I don't need you to give me direction! But answer the question! Why did you drive her in the Audi? Getting tired of me? Is that it? You wanted a Slytherin in your social bracket as a partner instead of the poor little Gryffindor?!"

"... hold on. What are you going on about?" He stared at her. "Why are you so mad-?"

"I just spent all morning working out payroll while you were off driving the Audi. WITHOUT ME. WITH GREENGRASS!"

"Oh, well, I could've taken you along, but-"

"That's not the point! How much more clearly do I need to explain this?!"

"I… what does…"

She jabbed his chest hard with the wand, "You're planning on replacing me! Admit it! You've had your fun, used me as much as you can use me and now you're going to throw me aside now that the better model's come along. That's IT isn't it?!" She pressed the tip of the wand to his throat, "I am NOT going to get cut out of my rightful share of that car. I'd sooner see you and that bint dead."

"Weasley," Draco spoke slowly and carefully trying his best to navigate the potential verbal minefield and avoid getting essential bodily parts from getting hexed off. "Listen to me. I am not cutting you out. We had a deal. You have been working very hard and there is no way I could have gotten as far as we have without your help."

"Then what were you trying to do with Greengrass?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

"I was trying to get her motivated!" He snarled. "I was hoping that she'd get the same sort of look in her eyes that you get when we talk about it. I was hoping she would understand. I mean, she's a smart and an okay worker, but she's not really motivated. She thinks this sort of work is beneath her. I was hoping we could use her more as a supervisor than as manual labor because when she's motivated, she should be perfectly capable of handling it!"

"Except?"

"Except she was terrified when I took her on it. She was so scared of the Audi that when I hit a hundred kilometers an hour she started screaming and begging me to take her back." Draco admitted. "She was so scared she had her first bout of accidental magic since she was eight and apperated us and the car to the parking lot outside." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

Ginny's eyes grew wide. "The Audi is out there?"

"Yes. And I was just dropping Daphne off so I can figure out how the hell I'm going to get the car back to Ferdinand and the dealership in London before he sends the cops after us." Draco admitted. He gave a wry grin, "At least now, though, she's certainly motivated."

She eyed him suspiciously, "I still have trouble believing that all you wanted was just to show the Audi to her."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" He stared at her.

"Did you take her to lunch?" Ginny asked sharply.

"No? Should I have? Maybe that might've made her more receptive-"

"Did you take her shopping?" Ginny snapped quickly.

"Well, no. I didn't need to. She had-"

That seemed to briefly mollify the redheaded girl, but then she frowned once more, causing Draco to take another step back.

"If you're doing it to 'motivate' people," Ginny said sarcastically, "Why are you doing it for her and not anyone else? Other than me, of course." She glared.

"Why? Because the rest of that crowd down there really wouldn't have appreciated it, obviously," Draco spoke as though it were self-evident.

"Really?" Ginny asked, "And why's that?"

"All we need to get them working is a good meal and maybe the occasional pat on the back telling them they're doing a good job."

"A lot of people are like that," Ginny replied.

"Obviously because they're not like us." Draco sneered. "I mean, yes, obviously they're Pureblood Wizards, but they're not like our sort of Pureblood Wizard. They're poor."

Ginny blinked and stared.

"What?" Draco flinched at the look in her eye.

"Malfoy, my family is poor." She glowered at him.

Draco began to pace, "Actually, that's the interesting thing. I'd always thought you were, especially since I was listening to my father, but with a bit of thought, it's quite clear that you are, in fact, not."

"You've stopped making sense again." Ginny groaned.

Draco began counting off on his fingers, "Your family owns its own home. You own the land all around it. I have no idea if that land is actually being put to any use by your family, but I imagine you must be deriving some sort of income from it because there is no possible way that a man as honest as your father could have possibly afforded to put seven children through Hogswarts on the strength of a ministry salary." He gestured dramatically, "With any other family, that would probably be fairly well off."

"But then why do we never have any money?" Ginny asked in confusion.

"Because your parents obviously never figured out how to use a birth control charm." Draco said with another sneer.

Ginny growled and shook a fist at him, but he waved her off, having warmed up to the topic. "Meanwhile those poor wretches out there are poor. Truly, wretchedly poor. It's obvious. They live in Knockturn Alley. That means they rent. They don't have their own land or homes. Nearly everyone down there is so poor they can't even afford to buy from the only mildly inflated prices that your family business is selling food at."

"My family is not inflating prices!" Ginny said defensively.

"But they are matching the market prices which have risen considerably over the previous prices before the embargo. The Galleon used to be artificially pegged to the British Pound at five pounds to the Galleon by the Goblins. With that method of price control gone, now that Gringotts is no longer exchanging Wizarding currency for muggle, then the rate is now wildly all over the map. Look, right now, a single Pound buys me a ten kilo bag of potatoes from our agricultural suppliers."

Ginny was still not sure what Draco was getting at nodded.

"Now, do you know how much a ten kilo bag of potatoes costs in the Wizarding World right now?" He asked brightly.

"Last I heard the price was a bit over a Galleon now." Ginny replied thoughtfully.

"Practically one is to one." Draco grinned. "So for those people down there, who once upon a time were struggling to earn a couple of knuts a day… I am paying them the equivalent of a pittance in muggle money yet they feel like they're earning a small fortune."

"But you're not paying them in actual money! You're paying them in bags of potatoes!" Ginny declared in exasperation.

"Potatoes they are happy to take!" Draco concluded triumphantly. "Potatoes they have been reselling to our agents in Diagon Alley and making a handsome little profit of Galleons thereby. Their work produces crisps for us to sell on the Muggle side to keep us in the money we need to keep purchasing raw potatoes from our suppliers, with our wizard workforce allowing us to neatly sidestep the majority of the usual production and distribution costs that a muggle factory runs into. With the produce not being purchased with Wizarding money, we neatly sidestep the whole embargo."

"And also cornering the raw potato market in Wizarding Britain?" Ginny asked.

Draco nodded, then muttered to himself as an aside. "I may possibly have been managing to put the Wizarding world on a Potato standard for our currency at least for the time being." He shrugged, "In any case, this is probably the best those people have been fed in years!"

Ginny grudgingly admitted, "They did seem kind of obscenely happy about us serving them lunch."

"A further pittance." Draco said grandly. "A Happy Meal a day per worker is enough to buy us their eternal loyalty! And we deduct the cost of those meals from their potatoes earned."

"But what does this have to do with the Audi?"

"People who think like that… people who aren't bothering to think beyond their next meal… These people can't even conceive of the life of freedom that you take for granted, Weasley." Draco shook his head, "They can't possibly appreciate the Audi. They just can't. They're not like us."

"And I guess neither is Daphne." Ginny said peevishly.

Draco grumbled, "Apparently not everyone is ready to embrace the muggle world with open arms."

She sighed, "So you really promise that you aren't trying to have Daphne take over my job?"

Draco seemed confused at that. "Why? You're brilliant at the administrative work. Daphne's much better suited to working with people on the factory floor directly. You've both got your skill sets. I'd have to be insane not to use you both to your best advantage."

Ginny eyed him for a long moment before replying in a deadpan tone, "Just like you're exploiting those poor workers of ours by taking advantage of their ignorance and desperation while working the absolute limits of a dubiously advantageous exchange rate that only you seem to have managed to notice?"

"Precisely!" Draco agreed.

"And the entire thing with you taking her to see the Audi was purely professional?" Ginny asked in a worryingly sweet voice that Draco was only just starting to realize might not be entirely sincere.

"Obviously."

"You weren't using the Audi to seduce her?" Ginny continued.

"What-? Don't be absurd! You think I would defile the car like that?!" Draco actually looked visibly ill at the thought.

"Well, it's just…" Ginny shrugged, "Daphne is awfully pretty."

Draco sneered, "Then you date her. Just don't seduce her in the Audi."

Ginny stared in surprise, "You really have no interest in her like that?"

"I am maintaining absolute focus on our end goal," Draco replied airily.

She smirked slightly and began twirling a finger in a lock of her hair. Draco swallowed hard and would have looked away, but didn't seem able to tear his gaze from the sight. "Or you just prefer redheads." She grinned.

"Stop mocking me!" He snarled.

She brushed the lock of hair over her ear and Draco looked away hurriedly.

"And the car's in the parking lot right now?"

"Er… yes." He managed to reply.

"I'll help you bring it back to London, then." Ginny said with a small, eager grin.

He blinked, then allowed a small grin to light upon his features, "Oh… does someone want another ride?"

Her eyes rolled back into her head as she gave a shudder of pleasure, "Yessss…"

That was when they heard the immense crash outside, like thunder.

Except… it kept happening. One crash after another.

"What in Merlin's name is going on out there?" Draco asked sharply.

He opened the office door and stalked out to the warehouse floor, with his workers looking on in confusion. Ginny followed in his wake as he flung open the doors to find that gigantic undead forms smashing their way through the town.

"What the-?!"

Behind him, a few of the workers caught sight of the gigantic forms began screaming in panic and terror.

Draco snarled over his shoulder, "Stay calm, you idiots! They're nowhere near us yet."

But a handful of his employees had already bolted for the warehouse's back door in fear.

He bit down a curse and heard Ginny sharply tell one of their shift supervisors, "You. Get the aurors. They're going to need to get down here to cover this up."

The older witch nodded fearfully and apperated away. The few who actually had licenses to do so also left hurriedly, but that left the majority of the workers who either lived in the warehouse or had to take portkeys to get back to Diagon Alley. Portkeys that were only set to trigger at shift changes.

"What the hell are giants doing in this town?!" Draco asked Ginny in confusion.

"They're probably here for Harry."

"... say that again, it almost sounded like you said Potter is in this town." Draco asked slowly.

"Oh… I forgot that you didn't know." Ginny admitted.

"I'm in the same town as Harry Potter?! You couldn't have mentioned this sooner?!" His voice rose in agitation.

"It's not like it comes up in conversation much!" She shot back defensively. "And if I DID tell you, you'd just go looking for him so you can annoy him and end up leaving me with even more of your work!"

"I do not 'annoy' him!" Draco cried out, mortally offended.

"You do it all the time!" She laughed.

"Um… boss?" Astoria said in a small voice, having suddenly appeared behind the two.

Draco and Ginny both turned to look at her.

"That one… looks like it's heading this way." Astoria continued in a tiny, worried voice. "Shouldn't we run? I mean I would apperate away… except I don't know how." She added for emphasis, "At all."

Draco looked at the rapidly approaching form. It looked like some sort of inferni. Either someone had used Engorgioed a whole lot of normal inferni… or someone had turned dozens of giants into inferni and set them loose on a muggle town.

Where Potter was.

This whole thing stank of the Dark Lord's plots.

Planning that was interfering with Draco's business.

... that Professor Snape had to have known about.

He did not like that.

He liked even less the fact that the closest of the giant inferni appeared to be making a direct path towards the badly parked Audi all alone in the parking lot.

Draco screamed a battlecry and ran out, hurling curses.

Astoria gasped aloud, the factory workers all turning to look at her. "He's… he's nobly sacrificing himself to protect us all"

The factory workers cheered Draco on.

Ginny sighed in exasperation. She was going to have to go out and watch his back.

She ran out as well.

* * *

_Things are heating up. I hope this is sufficient for an update for now._


	17. Chapter 17

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

"You know," Pansy commented to Hermione, as they levitated Tonks gently out of the wreckage of the Dursley's kitchen, "you're actually correct."

"I know I am," Hermione said flatly, doing a double check on Tonks to make sure she was still breathing. "But about what, specifically?"

"Potter can't handle all these giants on his own," Pansy said matter of factly. She shook her head. "We need to get reinforcements, quickly."

"Well, Miss Figg is a member of the Order," Hermione said, pointing across the street. She frowned. "I can't see her car though... I hope she's all right."

"Does she have a Floo?" Asked Pansy. Hermione shrugged.

"I guess we'll have to see..."

"Well, we have anything else then?" Pansy asked flatly. "Don't suppose you could call your Mud-er, Muggleborn friends to help us?" She asked, mindful of inviting Hermione's wrath. The corpse of the giant she'd taken out all by herself was a potent reminder of what that could do. Hermione snorted.

"I left my cellphone back home," Hermione groused. "Maybe we can find a pay..." She trailed off as she pushed her hand into her pocket. She pulled out a Galleon, and beamed. Pansy blinked.

"What's that going to do?"

"I added a charm to the coins to serve as a danger signal in case... Nevermind, I can get help," Hermione sighed at Pansy's confused look. She tapped the coin three times with her wand, and then slammed the opposite face against the nearest wall. It began to vibrate. Pansy raised an eyebrow.

"If you could do that with the coin, I'd have joined your silly little club," she said wryly. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh grow up!"

There was another buzz in the nearby bushes. Hermione and Pansy turned their wands on the source. The former lowered hers as a familiar redhead and her blonde friend emerged.

"Susan? Hannah?" Hermione asked in surprise. The redhead smiled sheepishly. Hannah sighed.

"Oh, uh, hello Hermione!" Susan said. "We were just... In the neighborhood!"

"In Harry's aunt's garden?" Pansy asked skeptically. Susan flushed, as Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Well, ah, we were on business," Susan said. Hannah sighed and rubbed her temples.

"In the garden," Pansy said dryly. She shook her head. "Really, and I thought _Granger_ was obvious."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Hermione snarled.

"Let's just leave that tabled for now, shall we?" Hannah said intelligently. She pointed at the skyline. "We've got a lot of trouble and we need more help."

"I've summoned the DA," Hermione said. "But we'll need to get the word out as to what, exactly, is going on." She frowned and looked at the ominous skyline. "Why aren't the Aurors here, anyway?"

"They're on strike," Susan explained. Hermione's eyebrows shot nearly to her hairline.

'They're _what?!"_

"So allow me to understand this," Pansy said, "the Dark Lord launches a massive assault on Potter's hometown at the _exact moment_ the Aurors are off duty?" She shook her head and huffed. "How could we get so _lucky?"_

"Come on, let's focus on communication," Hermione said, heading for Figg's home. "After this call, we need to find Harry! Susan, you know any healing spells?"

"A few standard Auror ones," she said, immediately waving her wand over Tonks' unconscious form. She bit her lower lip in concern, and bent down to put her lips near the Auror's ear. "I promise, you'll see Harry again," she said.

"What?" Pansy asked. Hannah rolled her eyes. She was doing that a lot lately.

"Forget it, we'll tease her about it when we're not in imminent threat of death..."

* * *

"Wilburt! What are you doing?! We need to get out of here!" The dark-haired, squash nosed wizard exclaimed, trying to pull on the sleeve of his older friend.

"No, Malachi!" Wilburt, a very underfed, sunken-cheeked specimen of Wizardhood replied to the other. "Help me get the other line workers oragnized, we need to save the potatoes. Not just the completed product, but the raw materials as well!"

"Pota- they're just potatoes!" Malachi blurted out. "There are giant inferni out there! The portkey won't activate again until shift change and that's not for at least an hour! We need to run!"

"They're Master Malfoys potatoes!" Wilburt shot back, "And you should be ashamed of yourself. Why, he's out there tryin' to protect the rest of us, the least we can do is try to protect what's his!"

"That's because he's insane!" Malachi pointed out as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"The best Dark Lords tend to be. Sure this one's kind of young and new to the whole deal, but he's obviously workin' very hard on it."

"That does not make things better!"

"He's also fed us and clothed us and given us fine work out of the goodness of his heart, he has!" Wilburt proclaimed, "Besides, if you run, see if that means you keep your job after all's said and done."

"That's all well and good, but I don't feel that indebted to him!" Malachi countered. "I mean, I don't owe him my life!"

"I'm probably going to get a promotion for doing this!" Wilburt replied happily, levitating yet another bag of potatoes into the dormitory sheds. The expansion charms in them actually made them large enough to keep the entire stock of raw potatoes in.

Wilburt shouted, "A promotion?! What good's a promotion to you if the giant inferni kill you?!"

"Nah, Master Malfoy and his Mistress Weasley are out there. We'll be fine. What you ought to be askin' yourself is what happens if they find out about your cowardice, eh, Malachi?"

"... what do you mean?"

"Well, you saw what Master Malfoy did to poor Miss Greengrass? And that was just for not workin' as hard as she coulda. And she's one of 'em nobby pureblood types same as he is. Maybe he's not as hard on us cause we're poor folk and he understands that he's gotta set differin' standards, but at the same time... what do you think he's gonna do to you if he founds out you ran?"

Malachi froze at that thought.

"Worse. You heard him and Mistress Weasley goin' at it in the office? She were mad at him cause he went and did whatever tortures it was on Miss Greengrass without her." Wilburt nodded sagely. "Doesn't sound like a couple I want to anger, nosirree."

"Perhaps you have a point." Malachi pulled out his wand and began helping levitate the potatoes, with more and more of the workers quickly becoming organized to move the materials as quickly as possible.

Wilburt nodded sagely as they went about their work, "Ayup. Given a choice between dead giants and Master Malfoy, I'd rather risk the giants. I mean all they can do is kill you. Malfoy'd take you... to the Dealer's Ship."

"So Oh-Dee is something called a 'Dealer'? Wonder what that is?"

"I for one don't intend to find out. Keep liftin'!"

* * *

Draco was bellowing incoherently as his wand waved wildly, bolts of light in a rainbow of colors blasting out of the tip to hammer against the slow moving giant inferni. Most of the charms, jinxes and spells Draco hurled were simply splashing harmlessly against the giant's corpse pallor grey skin.

Here and there a spell would leave some sign. A scorch mark, a gouge, a cut. Little things. None of which seemed to harm the undead thing at all. Other the occasional flinch or half-roar, half-moan of annoyance, the giant seemed completely unharmed.

Draco was panting after a moment. His arm hurt. He'd been waving it wildly… unnecessary flamboyance. He might even have wrenched his shoulder a bit. He was going to need a pain potion for that soon enough.

All for nothing.

Ginny took position next to him, eyeing the giant as it drew inexorably closer. "That's horrible."

"That's heading our way," Draco replied, panting.

"More now than before," Ginny pointed out. "All your yelling and the little light show got its attention."

Draco glared at her for a moment, "Are you actually going to help, or were you just going to stand there making snide commentary?"

"Well, snide commentary really is more your department, then mine," Ginny observed. She aimed her wand up towards the giant's face and gestured with it too fast for Draco to make out the wand movement. A thin beam of light struck it right on the nose… or rather up one nostril.

The giant took a step back, flinching away from the light then it started to shake its head.

"What did you do?!" Draco stared.

The gigantic head snapped forward once more, a black… thing suddenly flung out of its nostril at high speed. There was the vague outline of what could have been the suggestion of a bat in its shape, but the whole smashed into the pavement and exploded into a cloud of dust.

Ginny winced, "That was supposed to be a Bat Bogey Hex."

"It's a walking corpse!" Draco exclaimed, "It hasn't got bogeys to turn to bats!"

"Well, I hurt it more than you did!" She shot back.

"Well, obviously…" He trailed off as he realized that she was right. She was absolutely right. She HAD hurt it. Why?

Draco stared. This thing wasn't just an Engorgioed inferni. It was a real, honest to goodness giant that had somehow been turned into an inferni. What he knew of the dark arts and of giants told him right away that it should have been impossible. There would be just far too much magic that needed to be bound up into an inferni's body. The giant's skin was resistant to magic. It wouldn't work… unless someone skinned the giant first then redressed it in its own skin after all the magic had taken hold.

So that meant…

"All the protection's in the skin!" Draco exclaimed suddenly as the giant stomped onto the pavement and ever closer to the Audi. "Weasley! I need you to do that spell again! It'll resist anything we cast directly on the skin!"

"Got it!" She called back.

"Now!" Draco cried and aimed his wand at the area around the giant's feet. "Crisco!"

A stream of golden, glistening liquid shot out of the tip of his wand just as Ginny's second Bat Bogey Hex scored a direct hit on its nose once more.

The giant staggered again, taking another step back. This time, Draco's spell had thickly coated the pavement around it in slippery oil. Broken though the pavement might have been, not even that was enough to save it from having its feet shooting out from under it and sending it tumbling down to the ground with a thunderous crash.

From behind them the workers, at least the ones who weren't busy helping save the potatoes, roared cheers.

Draco hadn't even bothered to wait for the giant to finish falling and he was already running for it. He knew it was only down, not out. A giant was tough enough on its own. A giant inferni would have been… it was insane.

And there were dozens that he could see all over the town. Draco understood that some of the acts that Dark Lord took were meant to terrorize. They were pure intimidation tactics. Horror shows intended to frighten the weak-minded into obedience. This? This was just pointless horror. A single of these things would have been enough to smash Potter into a bloody smear. Five would have been enough to level the all of Little Whinging! This was all so complete and unnecessary overkill!

He came within five feet of the giant inferni's head, Ginny running behind him, screaming at him to get away. He didn't have anything he knew for certain to be powerful enough that he could use from a long distance. His strongest spells for mass damage would not have been accurate enough for what he needed to do, so he would have to give himself a bigger target.

"What are you doing! It's not dead yet!" Ginny screamed at him.

"I know!" He screamed back then focused on its ear. They would have had to have cut it away from the skin. The inside would have been thin enough to be vulnerable. "Pellis!" He roared, pointing his wand at the ear canal and giving it a jab and a twist.

The skin from the inner ear suddenly seemed to crawl up the ear canal splitting and peeling open the skin as it went, leaving behind only the stringy, dried out jerky-like muscle and cartilage that underlay the skin.

Ginny stared, "Wasn't that the-?"

"Yes. Potato peeling charm," Drago grinned, "It doesn't work on anything alive and it's too short range to use unless we got in close to where the thinner skin was!"

The giant did not like that at all, and they could see an arm rising in slow motion, intending to clap over its now hurt ear. Draco wondered if it actually did hurt, or if its creator had been smart enough to ensure that it knew to cover up any vulnerable spots it might have?

Well, there wouldn't be enough time to find out.

"REDUCTO!" Draco roared, sending a blue pulse of pure force hammering into the gigantic ear canal, this time meriting a bellow from the creature. The approaching hand twitched spastically and in doing so moved faster than Draco could react.

Fortunately for him, it wasn't faster than Ginny could react. "Protego!" She cried out, and a shimmering half-dome of force sprang into being covering both of them.

The flailing corpse-pallor hand smashed hard into the shield, causing Ginny to wince and the half-dome to almost crumple. "Draco!" Ginny called out as the hand moved back for another blow.

"I have it! I have it! REDUCTO!" The hole grew bigger, digging into the gigantic skull.

The arm flailed once more, crashing against Ginny's shield and she had to take a step back, almost bumping up into Draco. He didn't even look as he put an arm around her waist to help steady her.

"REDUCTO!" He cried out again. Deeper still a hole large enough to shove someone's entire body into and deep enough in the cavernous undead head of the giant that the other end was lost to sight.

The giant was trying to get up, ignoring them as it was not able to break through the shield.

"EXPULSO!" Draco cried out almost ecstatically and sent a final bolt of blue light deep into giant's now open head, creating a massive, but surprisingly near contained concussion. The back blast of wind out the giant's now hollowed skull sent Draco and Ginny's coats whipping around their bodies.

The blast sent the giant's entire body into a massive spasm before it fell still.

Draco was breathing hard, his hands shaking. Adrenaline still flooded his body, making him feel incredible. Invincible. His arm was sore. His voice raw. A glance to one side showed him that Ginny, who was lowering the shield that had kept the giant's dying spasms from killing them, seemed to be practically glowing. She was just as shaky as he was.

He still had an arm around her waist.

He wondered briefly where the mad impulse to kiss her was coming from.

Behind them, the workers gave ragged cheers, snapping him out of his little fugue. He barked a laugh, "Was it good for you too?"

She stared incredulously at him then reached across his chest smacked him in the arm. His wand arm. The one that already hurt. "You nutter. You almost got yourself killed." She growled.

He panted, "No worries. I knew you had my back, Weasley."

She blinked in surprise at that.

"I knew you weren't going to let anything happen to your partner." He continued.

She gave a sniff and pointed, "I was just making sure the car was safe."

"This is insane," Draco said to her.

He shook his head then looked out at the town. Dozens. There were dozens more out there. One at a time, maybe he and Weasley could take down a few more, but then how much damage were they going to do?

"What the hell is that?" Draco asked suddenly, spotting something streaking through the air, bellowing madly.

Ginny squinted, into the distance then grinned brilliantly, "Unless I miss my guess… that's Harry."

"Potter?! That's Potter?" Draco sputtered incredulously as he watched the blurring streak destroy giant after giant. Effortlessly cutting through them. He felt a spark of impotent, jealous rage flare in his heart, but he and Ginny had to practically kill themselves to take down one.

"Is he using a sword?!" Draco glowered, realizing what the sparkling thing in Potter's hand was.

"It looks like its working," Ginny said, the annoying grin still on her face.

He growled, "Show off."

"He's taking them down, Malfoy," Ginny said admonishing him mildly, "We need him to keep showing off like that."

"Well, we don't need him to protect ourselves," Draco sneered, letting Ginny's waist go. "He's one person. He's taking out a lot of them, but he can't be everywhere at once."

"I know. There's too many of them for him to take on alone." Ginny nodded. "Do you have any brooms we could use?"

"Are you insane, Weasley?! I know you're a Gryffindor, but I also know you've got more brains than the average! Even if we got in the air," Draco's face looked pained as he admitted the truth, "We're not as powerful as he is. Or as fast! He might be able to pull it off, but we'd be lucky not to end up splattered!"

"What do you suggest we do then?!" Ginny cried at him.

"We protect what's ours!" He bellowed back. "We have a defensible position here. Potter can go crazy wandering all over the place, killing those things willy-nilly. We protect this spot. We hunker down and keep our people safe as best we can and hope the Aurors get here before these things cause too much damage."

"Where in Merlin's name are the Aurors?" Ginny groaned.

As if on cue, the woman they'd sent for the Aurors reappeared behind them. "Mistress Weasley! Master Malfoy!"

"Where are the Aurors, Melinda?" Ginny asked sharply.

"Mistress… they're on strike," Her face was verging on panic and tears. "There was a bunch of them in front of the Ministry building holding up placards and picketing, but no one was willing to go do anything since they hadn't been paid."

"You're… kidding…" Ginny stared. "No one? You told them what was going on out here?!"

"They didn't believe me!" She shouted back.

"I'm not even surprised anymore," Draco muttered to himself and sighed. He looked over his shoulder back at the rampaging undead giants. Then at the car. Then at the warehouse. At his workers. At Ginny.

Draco knew he couldn't fight like Potter. He was no Gryffindor to hurl himself stupidly into danger or a straight up fight… the past few minutes notwithstanding.

"Right, then." Draco said sharply, clapping his hands together. "Enough fighting like a Gryffindor. That doesn't seem to be working out for us."

"You want us to fight like Slytherin?" Ginny said incredulously, "But there's nowhere we can pull off an ambush from."

"Sometimes its a knife to the back." Draco replied grandiosely, "Sometimes, you go for the numerical advantage."

He turned to Melinda, the shift supervisor and said, "Be a dear and pop back over to the Auror picket lines, would you?"

"But… but they didn't believe-" The woman tried to explain tearfully.

Draco reached into his coat and pulled out a sack of galleons which he handed over to the woman. "Tell them that the Prince Potato Crisp Factory is looking to hire experienced Aurors for positions as Security personnel."

The woman stared at the sack of coins, mesmerized.

"Tell them," Draco continued, glancing over to the giants once more then back at the woman, "Tell them that there will be an employment test being held here. Anyone who shows up in the next five minutes will earn a Galleon just for showing up. If they survive the hiring process, they will receive as their starting pay twice their current ministry salary, plus benefits."

"Oh my." She murmured.

"If anyone looks like they don't believe you, just clink the coin sack at them. If you have to, reach into it and let the galleons trickle between your fingers. Got that?"

"Yes, sir." She continued wide-eyed.

"Can you remember all of that, or do I need to write it down?" Draco asked imperiously.

"I think I got it, Master Malfoy. You're hiring them to protect us?" The woman's tone was awed.

He blinked, "Er… yes, I suppose I am."

"I won't fail you, Master Malfoy!" She promised grandly. "I'll be right back with as many of them as I can talk into coming!"

As the woman apperated, Ginny looked at Draco, "Is that really going to work?"

"Do you have a better plan?" He sneered."

"Brooms." She replied back.

"No."

She sighed, then asked, "Hiring process?"

"Anyone who manages to survive that," He jerked a thumb at the giants, "Is going to _deserve_ a job."

* * *

When Harry had first started Hogwarts, the only thing he'd been good at was flying. On a broom, he felt as though he could do anything. Not a single move was too difficult, not a play too strenuous. He was at home in the air, riding the winds.

He felt a similar certainty as he flew through Little Whinging, striking down giant after giant. His Occlumency-enhanced perception let him see every move the lumbering giants make as slow and steady as he wished. And in those precious heartbeat-long moments, where he slowed the world down, he could guide his blade right to the proper spot. Once, twice, and again-He broke off, flipped upside down and pointed at the hole in the face of the hideous monster.

_"CONFRINGO!"_ The beast died again, slumping to the grassy park space it had been lumbering through. Harry flipped back around and shot forth, seeing more giants, more prey. He felt a feral grin on his face as he dove for two more giants converging on a crashed bus. He leaned forward onto the broom, practically lying down on it. He extended his blade, and imagined a move of Oliver's as Keeper. He spun the broom, three hundred and sixty degrees! He held tight onto the sword and felt it slice through one neck... Then another... And he shot out between the heads of the giants as chunks of their rotten flesh flipped away in his wake. He whipped around and targeted the gaps he'd opened up in the sides of their throats.

_"CONFRINGO!"_ He bellowed. "_CONFRINGO!"_

Two curses brought both lumbering beasts down, their heads burnt and blackened husks. Harry took deep breaths, and spun slowly on his broom. It was fortunate he did-A giant leaped up for him, mouth open like a great frog trying to swallow a mouse.

"GAH!" He pitched up and willed the broom forward, the jaws of the giant snapping shut scant feet behind him. He rolled, and unleashed a Reductor curse on the back of the giant's head. The red curse blasted it enough to disrupt the balance of the beast, and it slammed face first into a parked car. Harry dove quickly, and focused his mind.

_FOCUS...! _The muscles of the giant rippled grotesquely as it struggled to push itself up, even as the debris from the impact of its fall kept raining down. Harry tilted his head to avoid a flying bit of cracked plastic, and closed the distance between himself and the monster's scalp. He set himself into a spin, keeping his legs firmly tucked around the broom. He pitched to his right, and spun around three hundred and sixty degrees-Timed just right to let the sword cut through the thinnest part of the monster's skull. He could see the rotting brains oozing underneath as he continued his spin, and as he faced the sky he pointed his wand directly behind him to complete the spin.

_"CONFRINGO!"_ He willed the broom forward as time returned to normal, and he shot up like a bullet as the giant Inferi's brain exploded behind him. He looped up and checked over his handiwork. The monster's body was still, and his heart was still running a mile a minute. He couldn't stop grinning though.

_Am I just messed up? Or... Or am I happy I'm finally acting like a proper hero?_ He wondered. He shook his head and made a face. _Or maybe Oliver's finally rubbed off onto me..._

He looked around. More giant heads were peeking up over the rooftops of nearby warehouses. Harry narrowed his eyes, and tightened the grip he had on the Sword, his wand, and his Firebolt.

In the end, maybe it was just what he was best at-Killing monsters. And right now, that didn't seem like too bad a skill to have as he jet forth.

"Holy... Jesus... Christ... Carpenter!" Alfred Strange gasped, his eyes covered by Ominoculars. "That guy is... Is freaking _amazing!"_

Voldemort and a number of his trusted Death Eaters were watching the carnage from a rooftop near the center of Little Whinging. It was frankly a bit strange to think about unleashing over a hundred monsters onto an innocent town... But then again, it was also _awesome. As. Hell._

Especially watching that guy on the broomstick! Holy crap...!

"Hm? You see something, Loremaster?" Voldemort asked, sipping from a glass of sparkling cider. He rather enjoyed the fizzing sensation of the beverage. And it tasted superior to that Mountain Dew rubbish Lestrange had introduced.

"Yeah! There's this kid on a broomstick with a sword just wasting giants!" Alfred enthused. Voldemort hummed, and locked eyes with Alfred. After a moment the Dark Wizard summoned the Omnoculars to his hands, and looked for himself. He chuckled softly.

"Yes... Yes..." He smirked. "I must commend you, Loremaster. Your plan brought him out, rather than drove him off."

"You mean, it's Potter out there?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. Alfred didn't know the greasy guy very well, but he did smell like baking grease all the time so maybe he didn't want to know more. Voldemort nodded, observing the battle through the magic binoculars with increasing interest.

"Yes..."

"Shall I dispose of him for you, Master?" Bellatrix asked eagerly. Voldemort shook his head.

"No...Not just yet," he said. "Not when it's just become... Interesting." He looked over at Alfred with a smirk. "But do get ready our surprise, Loremaster. We should reward the boy's courage, should we not?"

Alfred looked down at the burning town. At the cries of fear and terror from people in the streets. At the carnage he was wreaking... Had helped bring about...

And said, "Hell yes, My Lord."

"Excellent," Voldemort purred. "Now... Bring me more pizza rolls!"


	18. Chapter 18

_Biting the Hand that Feeds You_

A Harry Potter fic by Andrew Joshua Talon

_Disclaimer: This is a non profit fan based parody. Harry Potter is the property of J. K. Rowling and Time Warner. Please support the official release._

* * *

_Written with Scriviner...  
_

* * *

The storage area for the Valyard , frankly, had plenty of room for discussion of a more private nature. So Ron appreciated this when Luna flounced off to study the head of the great construct. He and Neville were on a lower catwalk, staring out at her as the blonde hummed and shined the metal armor curiously.

"So," Ron began, "you uh... Your Gran seemed to have some harsh words for you." He looked over at Neville with a curious frown. "Why is that?"

Neville flushed, and looked aside. "It doesn't matter," he muttered. Ron scowled.

"Oh come on! Of course it does! It's bothering you, right? So... Why not tell me what it is?" Ron's eyes narrowed. "I mean, it involves Luna, so it involves me."

It was strange how easily he could say that. Huh. Maybe this marriage thing wasn't so bad after all. Neville worried his lip, and looked up at Luna again. There was a look in his eyes Ron swore was familiar but couldn't quite place it.

"I... Well... We paired up a lot in the DA," Neville said, "and uh... She's so kind, and brilliant, and pretty..." He smiled almost dreamily. Ron nodded at this.

"Oh yeah, she is! And talented too! There's this thing she does when we're alone that's-"

"Ron!" Neville shouted, red faced. "Y-You can't tell me that! She's your...!"

"What?" Ron asked curiously. "She like, sees what's wrong and tells me when I'm being dumb without me getting angry!"

Neville stared at Ron. The redhead frowned.

"What did you think we were..." He looked up at the giant Talos, his wife now playing with the great Mohawk atop it. He looked back at Neville, who was blushing up a storm. Ron's jaw dropped.

"Oh Merlin's balls! You and Luna... I mean...!"

Neville slowly nodded. "I... It... Yeah," he muttered, looking down at the old wooden beams holding them up. "I kind of fancied-"

"That you'd pilot this giant Talos together, right?" Ron asked with a grin. Neville stared in disbelief at Ron.

"I... What?!"

"Well, one wizard could power it, but two could work together and keep it going a lot more easily, right?" Ron asked with a bright grin. "And since you and Luna get along so well, of course you'd-"

"No you-you berk!" Neville responded with a sudden burst of anger. "I-I _fancied her!"_

Ron blinked rapidly. "... As in-"

"Yes!" Neville cried. "She's beautiful, she's smart, she's patient and amazing and you... You up and marry her?!" Neville demanded, his glare increasing. Frankly, Ron was starting to get a bit nervous. Neville had gained several inches in height since last he'd seen him, and he nearly towered over Ron. And of course, he had a giant freaking Talos he could use to smash him with. And if that buzzing in the air was any indication, he was brimming with magical power.

That jealousy though... Where had he seen it before? It was so familiar...

"H-Hey Neville, hang on, take it easy-" Ron tried, but Neville loomed over him.

"What, so you can keep mocking me?!" He growled. "You keep acting like a complete imbecile even when you-you've-!"

"Neville, come on!" Ron said quickly. "I didn't mean to get married! It-It just happened! Our parents made the arrangements!"

"So," Neville paused in his advance, but still held a fair amount of anger in his voice, "you think it's... Rubbish being married to her?"

"Rubbish? No! No no no!" Ron said quickly. "It's brilliant! I mean, I meant that about her when we're alone!"

Neville began to relax. Ron grinned.

"And of course, when we're alone we shag like _bunnies_ and that's just bloody awesome and-"

Ron would have continued, but he abruptly realized that maybe talking about the fact he was having sexual relations with the girl his friend fancied hard was not a good idea.

Unfortunately, he realized this about a second after Neville's fist impacted with his eye.

* * *

Luna held a wet washcloth to Ron's temple, as the three teenagers now sat at the foot of the great Talos. Neville was apologizing, and hadn't stopped since the moment his fist had hit the redhead.

"I'm sorry, I'm-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it Ron, I'm sorry!" Neville said, as though he'd been hit by a Looping Jinx. "I-I didn't-I just lost my temper-!"

"And now you have it back where it belongs, correct?" Luna asked calmly, as Ron groaned through the washcloth. Neville nodded frantically.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah! I'm, I'm so sorry Ron, I am..."

"Could've been sorry _sooner,"_ he groused. Neville grimaced.

"I uh-"

"But then that would have caused a time paradox, Ronald, and we can't have that," Luna said, holding one of her fingers up. "After all, we need to maintain temporal consistency. Otherwise we'll get Niven Time Bats in our belfries."

Ron and Neville both stared at her. Luna smiled at Neville warmly, and the Longbottom boy blushed.

"Now... Mind telling me why you decided to strike my husband, Neville?" Luna asked. Neville coughed and his eyes were locked onto the ground.

"Ah... Well... Er..." Neville worried his lower lip. He looked at Ron, apologetic and regretful... And yet, there was still that look. That desire.

"Neville! There's a call for you on the Floo!" Shouted Augusta Longbottom on the next level up. Neville grimaced.

"Be right there, Gran!" He shouted back. He headed up the stairs, trying to look like he wasn't fleeing and failing miserably. As soon as he was out of sight, Luna turned to Ron and tilted her head.

"Ronald... Does Neville fancy me?"

Ron blinked rapidly. He flushed a bit, and grit his teeth.

"I... It..." He sighed. "Yeah..."

"Oh," Luna said, nodding slightly. "I suppose that would explain things."

"Yeah, I suppose it would," Ron sighed. He held his hands up. "I mean, he never said anything! He never did anything... Did he?" He asked Luna in sudden suspicion. Luna shook her head.

"Oh no. Well, he did talk to me often. And looked at me a lot when he thought I wasn't looking. I was under the impression he was scanning me for Wrackspurts, but I suppose I was in error." She blinked at him. "Does this mean you are going to fight a duel over me?"

"No," Ron said. "Of course not!"

"Then you're going to divorce me so you don't have to duel?" Luna pressed. Ron scowled.

"No! Look Luna! This is all happening so bloody fast and... And I haven't had any time to process it!" He sighed and rubbed his temple with a wince. "The fact Neville gave me a shiner isn't helping much."

"No, I imagine not," Luna said with a nod. "Frankly, I'm a bit overwhelmed myself."

Ron stared and looked at his wife in disbelief. "I... Wha? You?"

"Oh yes," Luna sighed, holding the washcloth in her hands. "I'm quite happy to be married, Ronald, because I like you a great deal. I'm not entirely sure if it's love, but it seems like something that could result."

"Ah?!" Ron gaped. Luna continued.

"That said, I worry because you can be a rather jealous and impulsive person at times. And I worry that I might make you jealous, or that you will be jealous of others because they are in better situations than yours." She turned to him and smiled, almost sadly. "I know I'm not your first choice in marriage partners, or romance. And that you might feel like you deserve better. And to be honest, I think you do deserve far better. You just don't always realize it." She tilted her head back the other way. "Like how you seemed jealous of Neville's wealth and status, then caught yourself when you realized he has to live here all alone."

Ron's jaw dropped. "How did you-?"

"Like I said Ronald, I worry. And when I worry, I study and learn," Luna said. She sighed. "It doesn't seem to help me any though. If you really want me to divorce you so we don't have problems like this anymore, I would be sad but-"

"LUNA!" Ron shouted, and the blonde jumped.

Ron stood up, and took hold of Luna's hands. Luna looked up at him, a bit surprised. Ron smiled.

"Bloody hell, you do prattle on don't you?" He said with a shake of his head. "And for someone so smart you can be really dumb!"

Luna blinked rapidly. Ron continued his thought, even faster.

"Luna, I'm not thinking of... of divorcing you or anything! Right now," and here he beamed, "I'm _happy_ to be with you. And... Well... That's enough for me. I just don't want any more shocks, so we can figure this out. All right? But fighting over you and stuff is just... It's not what I'm going to do!"

Luna stared back at him, her expression blank. Ron began to sweat. He fumbled for an apology.

"I-I mean to say, er, I mean-"

She kissed him happily with a squeal, and nearly sent him toppling onto his back. Ron caught her, and held her tightly. He broke the kiss, panting in exertion. She panted back, smiling broadly.

"Thank you Ronald," Luna said happily. Ron slowly nodded.

"Ah... No problem," he said. He smiled at Luna. "Like I said, I just want a little time and peace to work this out-"

"HARRY'S UNDER ATTACK!" Neville shouted, bursting into the great storage room above. He skidded to a halt above them, panting for breath. "There are giants attacking his hometown! Hermione's there but they need our help and... Ah..." He blushed. "Am I interrupting?"

"Yes," Luna said, "but this seems important enough to interrupt."

Ron sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "Cor... Of course, back in trouble again. Like he'd be anywhere else." The redhead looked up at the great Talos... And smiled. "Hmm... You said giants?"

"This is an absurd idea, you know," Augusta Longbottom stated, as she adjusted the conjured leather straps around Neville's shoulders. The three of them were sitting in the great helm of the Valyard, sitting in chairs a few dozen Softening charms short of comfortable. Ron squirmed in his, and Luna kicked her legs behind them like a bored child on a wall.

"We don't have anything else available, and they need all the help they can get," Neville said.

"Besides," Luna said primly, "a Talos requires support units for defense or it will be torn down by smaller opponents. We can cover Neville while he is in combat."

Ron blinked and nodded. "Yeah! That's right!"

Augusta sighed, shook her head, and beamed at her grandson. "You had me worried there for a moment," she said. "But you are turning into a man your parents would be proud of." Her smile widened just a bit. "And I am already very proud of."

Neville blushed heavily. "Aw... Gran..."

"Now then!" Augusta said, once more commanding like an ancient Pureblood matriarch should be, "prepare yourselves. It will not just be giants you must deal with, and Valyard has not been in battle for some time! But the charms should hold. That said, don't hesitate to use the brooms to escape if you need to."

"We will Gran," Neville said with a nod. Ron grinned.

"Well, let's get going!"

Augusta Longbottom smiled at them, and stepped back out of the helm. A tap of her wand and the helm closed up with a metallic thunk. Neville reached out to take the control reins, which resembled horse reins cast in bronze. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"_Surge, Valeyard,"_ he cast. The whole Talos rumbled around them, gears turning and pipes whistling. Ron looked around in astonishment, and then out the one way window in the helm. The arms of the great mechanical construct came together, one fist into an open palm.

"I think he remembers!" Augusta shouted outside with a laugh. "Now hang on!" She pointed her wand at a piece of masonry that had shaken loose and took a deep breath. _"PORTUS!"_ She tossed it at the Talos... And in an instant they were gone.

* * *

"Right, thank you Dean," Hermione said with a grateful smile as she listened to the wizard over the phone. Nearby the active Floo, Susan and Hannah were taking turns sticking their heads through the green flames to talk to various members of the DA. Hermione hung up and sighed, rubbing her face.

"Well, Dean's getting the Muggleborns in on this," she said. "Apparently the news has been blacked out."

"Muggle news? That's strange," Hannah observed. "Wouldn't You-Know-Who want this getting out?"

"Presumably he's not a total idiot, so he doesn't want the Muggle nations of the world coming in on an exposed Magical world," Hermione observed. She made a face. "Then again, unleashing giants in an age of cellphones and YouTube seems pretty counter productive to that anyway."

"And with the Obliviators on strike as well..." Pansy shook her head as she kept an eye on Tonks on a nearby table. "This is just waiting to explode and..." She grimaced. "Does every inch of this woman's house smell like cat crap?"

"Yes, yes it does," Hermione groused.

Susan pulled her face back from the fire, and grinned over at Hermione. "Good news! We've got some reinforcements right now!"

The flames billowed up, and out stumbled two redheads. George stood up and stretched, while Fred rolled his head on his neck.

"Oh, hey Hermione," Fred said. "Glad you're not still tied up."

"Well, not glad," George admitted, "bit disappointed really."

"Harry's probably just as disappointed." Fred commented.

"Shall we give him a demonstration of the product?" George asked.

"What are they talking abou-" Susan tried, but Hermione seemed to apparate right in front of the twins.

"NOTHING," she said angrily. "You have help?"

"Yes!" George said. With a flourish he produced several matchstick-sized brooms from one hand. With a tap of his wand, they expanded into full sized models. "Authentic racing brooms, nice and cheap."

"Gives us all more mobility, what with the giants and all," Fred added, handing the brooms out. Pansy took one, and nodded thoughtfully. She looked over at Hermione.

"We can at least track Potter down and give him support," she said. Hermione nodded back, determined.

"Exactly. Fred, George? Stay here and coordinate with the others as they arrive. We'll go get Harry and support him. We'll send up a shower of red sparks to mark our location," she said. The Twins saluted.

"Aye aye, Captain Granger!"

"Good," Hermione said. She frowned deeply. "Is Ron coming with you?"

"He's off at the Longbottoms for a business deal," George said.

"Been there for a while, hope he's all right," Fred said.

There was the crack of thunder again, but a different timbre from the sounds the Inferi made. Hermione opened the door with her wand held out. She very slowly looked up... And up... And up...

The Twins walked onto either side of her, and looked up as well. Towering over them at around fifteen meters tall, shining a light bronze in the moonlight, was what looked like a gigantic mechanical Greek hoplite. A familiar redhead poked out of the side of the helm of the great vehicle, and waved.

"HEY HERMIONE! HEY GEORGE! HEY FRED!" Ron shouted down. Hermione's jaw was nearly to the ground, as Fred and George just grinned.

"Guess the deal went better than expected," Fred said.

"A _lot_ better," George added. A giant Inferi turned the corner nearby and began walking for the great construct. Hermione saw it and pointed in it's direction.

"RON! LOOK OUT!" She screamed. Ron looked at the beast, and scowled. He pulled his head back in just as the great warrior assumed a boxer's stance. The giant lumbered towards him, hands outstretched, great teeth gleaming with bloodlust...

Before the giant mechanical marvel _swung_ its fist. With a bang, the head of the Inferi seemed to vanish, and the body crumpled to the ground with a rumble. Ron poked his head back out a moment later.

"Thanks Hermione! But I think we can handle it!" Ron said with a grin.

"Of... Course you can," Hermione said with a small smile. She looked to her troops. "Come on, mount up! Let's give this... This thing some eyes!"

* * *

The crowd of almost fifty Aurors popped into existence all around the parking lot. Many were facing in the wrong direction and they were widely scattered across the open area, but Draco had to admit they made it there well within the allotted five minutes.

He could swear he'd never seen so much dull tan in his life. They all had their uniform trenchcoats with mantles on. Most wore suit and ties underneath, even the women. Many of them were carrying placards with various things written on them. Most of them unflattering of Fudge or the Ministry.

There were cries of surprise and alarm from the Aurors as they noticed the giant infri all around them.

One particularly lantern-jawed Auror in his late middle age who sported a tremendous mane of salt and pepper hair stalked towards Draco, wand clenched in his hand, "You're the one hiring?" He glowered belligerently.

Draco stood his ground, lifting his chin in the beginning of a sneer, "I am."

"I'm Waylock Smith." The man growled out. "You're Malfoy's kid. You tryin' to get us to work for You Know Who?"

Draco snarled angrily, "No. Do I look like my father?!"

"Actually, you kind of do."

Draco seemed ready to start hexing the man, but Ginny put a hand on Draco's shoulder and looked up at Smith, "I'm Ginny Weasley. Do you know who my father is?"

Smith glowered down at her for a moment, before his expression softened into confusion. "You're Arthur's kid. What're you doing with this piece of-"

"He's my partner." Ginny said flatly, ignoring the glower Draco was shooting her.

"'Partner'," The older man said with a half-leer. "That what they're callin' it nowadays?"

Ginny gave the man a sharp glance, "He's also the one making the final hiring decisions, so I think you would do well to show a little respect." She looked at Draco and mouthed, "It's your show."

The man grumbled and would have said more, but the other Aurors had noticed and begun pressing in close, a dozen questions being shot rapid-fire towards Draco and Ginny.

He held a hand up and shouted at them, "Settle down! Settle down! I am, in fact, Draco Malfoy. My business, Prince's Perfect Potato Crisps is currently in need of security specialists. Seeing as our fine Auror corps is currently experiencing financial issues due to our Minister's… dubious intelligence… I have decided to hire men and women with the necessary skills and experience to ensure that my business is going to be kept safe."

A dark haired witch in a pointed hat asked sharply, "What are those things?!"

"Giant inferi. They're actually your employment exam." Draco gave them all a ghoulish grin.

Murmurs of confusion rippled through the Aurors.

"While I was in the process of conducting my legitimate and lawful business," He waved to the workers who waved back, many of them waving at the Aurors.

A few Aurors returned the waves with bemusement.

"A business, for which I have all the necessary legal forms and paperwork filled out and filed with the ministry," He added hurriedly, "The Dark L-" He paused, cutting himself off, then continued again, his voice a snarl, "Some utter bastard whose name isn't fit to be pronounced by decent folk, has seen fit to attack this perfectly innocent and picturesque little town and endangered my place of business and my employees."

More murmuring and talk passed among the Aurors.

"I am going to need you to help defend this place and keep those giant undead things away from us." Draco finished. "That's the employment exam. For anyone who gives a good showing and survives until the giant inferius leaves or they are all dead." He gestured to Ginny, "Miss Weasley will have contracts prepared for you to enter my employ."

One Auror, an older skinnier gentleman raised a hand, waving his 'Fudge is a Bastard' placard for attention and called out, "Sounds like you're tryin' to get us to do Aurorin' while we're on strike."

Ginny snarled at them, "Don't you see these things smashing up the town? What kind of Aurors are you?!"

The older Auror replied, "The kind that ain't been paid in almost two months, miss. There's principle at stake and we probably ought to help…"

"Probably?!" Ginny sputtered.

"But we also have the principle of us stickin' to our strike." Another of the Aurors called out and there was much nodding.

Draco murmured softly into her ear, "Don't bother. The ones with the Gryffindor tendencies wouldn't be the ones in the picket lines."

"And I have no intention of having you work as Aurors!" Draco raised his voice. "This is a perfectly legitimate test of your skills and your ability to work under my direction." He ginned at them, "And unlike being an Auror, this job will actually pay."

That brought cheers.

"I can't believe they need to be-" Ginny began in disgust.

Draco tutted and spoke quietly to her as the Aurors all around them began to get organized, "I'm sure if we had time, you could've given them some terribly noble speech and gotten them to do the work for free because they'd be listening to their consciences, but we really don't have the time for it and I imagine most of those people have families to feed."

She snorted, "Fine."

Smith seemed to have taken charge of the Aurors as they set up a ragged perimeter around the parking lot. A few more of the Aurors, were sent into the warehouse. "They're the ones with the proper medical training."

"Good."

Another Auror, this one a woman wearing interestingly tight leather jeans and a leather bustier ran up to Smith and Draco. "We've got a bunch of panicking muggles running down the street. The patrols we're trying to set up to scout ahead keep running into them."

Smith glanced over to Draco and shrugged. "Town's muggle. Statute of Secrecy's takin' a hell of a beating already. Your call with what to do with 'em," There was a pause that was just a fraction of a second too long, "Sir."

Draco sighed and muttered under his breath, "Muggle filth and their filthy- Dammit." He gave Smith and the woman a sharp glare. "Bring them back here. Get them in the warehouse. Have any of your people good with muggle crowd control and any obliviators in there to babysit them and keep them out of your way."

"That's… kind of a surprising decision," Smith admitted as the woman ran off to deliver those instructions.

Draco regarded him coolly, "I am not my father. Besides, without the muggles in the way, that should give our people clearer lines of fire at the giants."

"Right you are, sir." This time there was no pause. "I'll see to the rest of the preparations."

He whirled away and strode off to join the other Aurors.

Ginny eyed Draco thoughtfully. "You're really just doing that to make sure they've got 'clearer lines of fire'?"

He glared at her and made a dismissive noise. "The less dead the giants leave, the easier it will be to cover this all up. If we get all of them in the warehouse, it'll be a lot simpler to obliviate the survivors once this blows over."

She frowned, "Do you actually care about the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Of course not!" Draco replied haughtily, "But if the muggle world starts interacting with the Wizarding one more, we lose our monopoly!"

Ginny stared at him for a long moment then finally laughed, "Never change, Draco."

He treated her to a mock sneer, "Why would I need to? I'm perfect alrea- what in the name of Merlin's sagging left testicle is that?!"

Everyone stared at the form that had suddenly appeared some distance away.

"It's some kind of metal giant?" Ginny murmured.

"It's a Talos!" Draco exclaimed. "It's a bloody stinking Talos in the middle of a muggle town fighting the bloody stinking giant inferi!"

Ginny grinned excitedly, "So now Harry really won't be fighting alone!"

"Who the devil still has a Talos in this day and age?!" Draco fumed. Followed in his own mind by the more important question: Why wasn't it him?

"Sir!" Smith called out, his wand half-stuck in his ear as he spoke. "The patrols we have helping evacuate the townspeople to here got in close enough to the giant armor thing. It looks like it might be on our side. There's a Mister Longbottom piloting it. Then there's a bunch of redheads on brooms acting as spotters. I think they might be Miss Weasley's brothers."

Ginny laughed, "Trust my brothers to find a giant metal armor to take to a fight."

"LONGBOTTOM?! THE GREAT BLOODY USELESS LUMP HAS A TALOS?!" The earlier spike of envy from Harry Potter's flying and magical prowess had stung, but this was just… stuff. He actually could afford to buy stuff. "I WANT A TALOS!"

"More than you want an audi?" Ginny grinned.

"Bite your tongue, witch."

* * *

Susan, Hannah and Pansy watched from the window as Neville's giant armor began wrecking giants, brooms flew around the Talos acting as spotters and lures to draw more giants into the killing zone the Talos was creating around it.

All three of them could still see Harry zooming around to the west. He was little more than a blur and flashing streaks of light and glittering silver, but he was out there. They could tell because the giant inferi were falling down.

A lot of houses were already wrecked and even more were endangered as the Talos's already gory fist burst through the skull of another.

"I thought you were going with them?" Susan asked Pansy, almost accusingly.

"Are you insane? In that?" Pansy replied sarcastically.

"Why did you get a broom then?" Susan asked, puzzled.

Hannah pointed out, "For a quick escape if she needs one."

"But the Floo is right there." Susan pointed out.

Hannah shrugged. "It could get smashed. I should've thought of it getting a broom myself."

"Someone has to stay here to let anyone arriving know what's happening!" Susan protested.

Pansy simply smirked. Then she blinked in surprise as she noticed something. "Anyone know why there's giants falling down in that part of town?"

Hannah shrugged, "We can probably blame Potter for it."

Susan looked in the direction Pansy was pointing, "No… that's east of here. Harry's wreaking havoc westwards." She frowned. "Then who could-?"

"I thought you said the Aurors were on strike?" Pansy asked, her turn to have an accusing tone.

"Well, yes. No one was going to… is that?" Susan stared as all three girls saw men in tan coats going house to house, evacuating the muggles.

Hannah cheered, "The Aurors are here! We're saved!"

"You didn't think we were saved when the giant armor thing showed up?" Pansy seemed amused by the girl's exclamation.

Hannah's voice was deadpan. "It's being piloted by Longbottom, Lovegood and Weasley. And not even one of the cooler Weasleys or the sensible one. It's Ron Weasley."

Pansy absorbed this, then nodded. "Good point."

As they'd talked, Susan had already stepped out the front door and waved one of the passing Aurors over.

"Miss Bones?" The youthful male Auror sputtered, "What are you doing here?"

"I was checking on a designated Ministry safehouse that I was going to be moving into, Auror Roberts" Susan lied extemporaneously. She had THIS story ready at least. She hadn't really been ready to answer Hermione.

Auror Roberts's eyes widened, "Oh my god. That must be why You Know Who's attacking this town!"

"... why, that does seem likely, yes." Susan granted. "Weren't you on strike?"

The man grinned, "As an Auror, yes. But I'm not here in that capacity. My new boss has ordered that we evacuate the townspeople to a more more defensible spot. It will be easier to protect them there, he says."

"So you aren't here under ministry orders?" Susan stared, aghast "Is the ministry doing anything?!"

"Not that I know of," Roberts admitted. "Which is kind of normal. Our new boss is the one trying to protect people."

Susan stared at him as he continued. "Anyway, we've got people prepping portkeys to take civilians back to the safe zone." He fished a potato out from his pocket and offered it to her.

"If someone's making portkeys, why not to somewhere far away from here?" She asked sharply taking the proffered potato from his hand.

"Ma'am, we were ordered to protect one spot. That's the only place we've got enough people at to cover effectively. We've got no idea about outside conditions and we don't have access to ministry resources to put the muggles in a holding area. The warehouse is about it."

"How do I activate this?" She asked, looking at the potato. "We have injured. Auror Tonks was caught by some debris when the attack initially hit."

"She's here too?" Roberts blanched.

"Yess…" She paused awkwardly then added, "Protection detail. I have at least two more pureblood girls here as well."

"So the safehouse was for pureblood girls?"

"... sure we can go with that." Susan said reluctantly.

"We've got healers… or at least healer trained ex-Aurors at the safezone. They can take a look at Auror Tonks when you get there."

"Excellent."

"Anyway, I still need to finish covering this street ma'am. Please use the Portkey. It activates when you say 'Prince Warehouse'. Make sure everyone's touching it when you-"

"Wait! This house has a floo! We're expecting some more reinforcements coming through shortly!" Susan cut him off.

"Reinforcements?" He blinked at that.

"Well, they're actually Hogwarts students, but ones with a great deal of Defense training." Susan admitted.

Auror Roberts seemed appalled at that. "But… students?!"

"Someone had to do something," Susan replied primly.

"Okay, ma'am." He shook his head, "Seems like it really is only the kids who can get anything done now." He said ruefully and Susan was left wondering what that meant. "I can get another Auror… er… security person over here to keep an eye on the Floo in case anyone comes out and make sure they get over to the safezone. We're coordinating everything from there."

"Excellent!" Susan replied with a grin. Susan cut him off. "Good luck, Auror Roberts!"

"Same to you, ma'am!" He called out as he ran down the street. "I'll be right back with someone to mind the Floo."

Pansy came up behind Susan and gave her a meaningful glance, "So… should we get out of here?"

"We need to wait until he brings someone back, but then, yes. We most definitely should." Susan said decisively.

Hannah stared as more Aurors ran down the street. "So… the only reason they're working this efficiently at all is because they're not working for the ministry?"

Susan sighed. "That seems to be the case." She clapped her hands briskly, "We should get Tonks ready to be moved. They should have someone here any moment now."

* * *

_And the train keeps chugging..._


End file.
